Where She Belongs
by Apherion
Summary: Orihime has been trapped between developing feelings. She is unsure of herself, and her actions are questionable. Ulquiorra has been possessed by his human feelings. He is ready to die to get rid of them. Neither of them expect the true outcome. UlquiHime
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters and some snippets of the storyline (due to the recreation of some of the anime/manga).

A/N: Please take a big note that this is a mature fic, as majority of my others are. This is an UlquiHime pairing. I am in college, so the updates will follow when tests and studying allows. The chapters are separated in first person POV with Orihime and third person POV with Ulquiorra. Some of the content has been derived from the anime/manga due to the setting still being in Hueco Mundo. I appreciate all of the support, you guys!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 1

-Orihime-

I stared out of the barred window, gazing upon the endless night that Hueco Mundo held. His voiced echoed in my mind for the umpteenth time as I looked up at the moon.

"_Don't ask questions. Don't say a word. You have no rights and no opinions." _His words had been so cold, so calculated.

"_We are not negotiating. I'm giving you an order."_ I couldn't argue because I knew that he could keep his end of the arrangement. I was not strong enough to defy his wishes. I have never been strong enough.

"_Take this. Wear it, and don't take it off."_ For two weeks, the bracelet had been on my wrist, burning its pattern into my creamy, fair skin.

"_I will give you twelve hours. I give you permission to say farewell to one person in that time frame."_ Of course I had said good-bye to Ichigo. Of all the people that I was leaving behind, he was the one that I worried about most. He was the one who I deeply cared for, he was the one I wanted safe more than anyone else.

How selfish of me, I thought, turning away from the window. Wanting him to come rescue me, and to love me as much as he does Rukia. How selfish am I? I sat down on the couch-like bed, burying my head in my hands, letting my copper-red hair shroud me in its tresses.

I heard the door open then, but I didn't bother to look up. I knew who it would be; the guard never changed unless he was busy with the fiendish plans set in motion by Aizen. I could feel his gaze from across the room, and I knew how he was standing.

Day or night, he would stand erect near the doorway, his eyes boring into my skin. However, he was always silent. He would just watch me, except for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sometimes he'd hold me down and force me to eat.

"Woman," his low voice cut across the silent room. His eyes were dangerous, and I had never seen the look he was giving me before. He was leaning against the wall and the door had shut.

"My name is Orihime," I repeated for the millionth time. His green eyes glared in the darkness, and I felt my heart leap uncomfortably. There was something wrong with the way he was leaning on the wall. I felt my heart beating faster, the adrenaline telling me to run.

I fell off of the sofa-esque bed, scrambling to get to the other side of the room; however, it was dumb of me to run. I was indeed the prey in this situation. His hands slid delicately around my wrists, holding fast to them.

"I know your name; however, I do not wish to call you by it." His voice was melting with danger, and shivers ran through my body. I twisted into them, unable to control the motion. I regain composure, not wanting to fail.

"Then _servant_ I would like you to give me a glass of water." It was too much, and I knew it the moment the snide retort punctured the brief silence between us. He shoved me against the wall closest to the bed, my arms pinned above my head as he leaned over me and his body pressing hard against my own. Heat boiled deep within me, and I could feel the warmth spreading through my cheeks from our proximity.

He stood against me, not saying a word, but his ire radiated off of him. His normally blank expression was filled with malice as he had one of his legs in between mine, and my embarrassment grew from our positioning as the pressure he exerted seemed to crest.

His breath was cool on my face when he finally spoke. "I will not tolerate derision from you. I may punish you how I see fit, as well. There are things that are comparative to death." Before he released his hold, our bodies touched intimately despite the clothing we were wearing. It was his silent warning. He then proceeded to turn on his heel and exit.

With my heart pounding, I sank to the floor. I wouldn't be able to stave off an attack, even if I had Tsubaki. My stomach churned at the thought, and I struggled to the couch on shaky legs.

-Ulquiorra-

Ever since Aizen had sent him on this mission, he had not expected to have such a reaction towards her. She constantly fought him. She was so much more difficult than when he had taken her.

She had no option other than to agree, he made sure of that. Aizen had instructed him that she was not to be harmed in any way that she was too precious to mar. However, I gave her twelve hours to say goodbye to everything that she knew and to one person.

Ulquiorra had thought about this for far too long, worrying that he had become soft. Only, this had been a premature thought. After 'raising' the woman for a little over a month, his concern with his brief weakness with her was eliminated.

Multiple occasions she had refused to eat, thus forcing his hand to threaten her and sometimes she held him to the threat of feeding it to her. She even attempted to drown herself in the bathes, and he now had to supervise her as she washed. He did not complain about having to look after her while she took care of her hygiene, but there was something about her that reminded him of when he once was human. The ache was not just centered on how she aroused him, either. She tugged at every fiber of his being, as though watching over her was the best thing that he has done since becoming an Arrancar.

He nearly lost his composure today though. His chest burned at the thought of what he could be doing at the moment instead of standing outside of the door.

She always insisted he use her name, to no avail on her end, and today she decided to give him cheek for it. He could not afford to lose control with her, even though he pushed back with his own mischievousness. Heat spread through him anew, and he called on one of his subordinates to watch her as he needed to sleep.

In truth, he controlled his thought pattern until he was safely inside his room before reveling in how she felt against him. He unzipped his jacket, revealing the number four on his chest before stepping out of his pants and shrugging off his top. Stark naked, he lay down on the bed.

Every inch of what he wanted was closer to his body, just barely within his grasp. His right hand took hold of the hard erection that seemed to cloud his judgment when it came to her. Slowly he began the smooth up and down motions as his eyes fluttered closed with his fantasy.

He was peeling off her dress, his lips at her throat. She panted heavily, as though she had been anticipating this all day. Finally the dress pooled at her feet, and he pulled back to gaze at the ample breasts, perked from desire, to the copper curls that led to her true sex. He backed her against the wall, hiding them from the moonlight pouring in from above. Her hands burned hot against his chest as she boldly moved to her knees and removed his own member from his confines.

She did not look up, and went down on him expertly. Her tongue played with his head before she began to suck him, using her hands to hold onto his waist for balance as she mimicked how she would sheath him had he been inside her at that moment. He rested a hand on the back of her head, guiding her as he followed her lead in having sex with her hot mouth. Then he felt the familiar twinge, and he stopped her.

Her grey eyes finally looked up at him; the corners of her mouth had saliva and some of his heat leaking out and down her chin. He picked her up, and she willingly followed. He pressed her against the wall again, helping her hook her left leg around his waist. He positioned himself at the opening of her, getting more turned on by the extent of her wetness. She was panting even harder now, and he could hear her vague dirty words. With his left hand on her right hip and his right on her opposite leg, he thrust into her, pulling her violently into him.

Her scream of pleasure rocked through her core, vibrating softly against him. He buried himself deep, before pulling out and plunging in again for the same chorus of ecstasy. Her walls were clenched around him as he pressed in and pulled out several times in quick succession, greatly in awe of how her mouth hadn't been the tip of her iceberg. He used his leverage to gain deeper access, brushing his head against her own button, eliciting a cry as her inside walls pulled him in deeper as they convulsed around him.

Her orgasm rocked through his senses. Watching how her face twisted with the sweet agony, he forced his body to give her everything he had, thrusting in and out while pulling her into him. She clutched to him, with sweat pouring over her ivory skin, and she moaned his name into his ear and he, too, braced her against him as he came.

His hand slowed to a stop as he emptied himself. He wanted her to an extent that he had never wanted another. It was this human desire that racked his entire body. He sat up in the bed, and looked towards the door.

"You do realize if you don't fuck her, someone else will." Grimmjow said leaning against the wall in his usual way. Eyes narrowed, Ulquiorra advanced on the lower ranked Espada.

"What do you know of it?" Grimmjow had his cocky grin in place and glared right back.

"You were whispering her name, 'Orihime… Orihime…' Do you honestly think she'd be that good?" Ulquiorra managed to keep his cool, keeping his deadpan face.

"I just want to see how she looks when I'm through with her. That's all." He turned from the hot-blooded man to walk towards the showers.

"You want her for something else if you're actually masturbating to her." Ulquiorra did not reply.

* * *

_**TBC...**_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All belongs to Tite Kubo.

A/N: Hooray! Tests over with for the week, was able to finish this chapter. Thank you all for reading and reviewing!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 2

-Orihime-

I knocked on the door to my room, hoping that Ulquiorra had taken his leave for the night. After all, I was quite sure it was early in the morning (perhaps four in the morning). Time moved so differently here in this place of perpetual night.

"Yes, _princess_," sneered the guard. His voice sounded familiar, but I could not place it. I did not let that bother me, however.

"I need…the bathroom…" I said shakily. I had barely slept any since Ulquiorra left, trying to piece together why he did what he had done. There was a cold laugh for a reply, but the door was pulled open. I gasped, staggering back. There was no mistaking who he was now, and why he was familiar.

It would have been hard to forget who the blue hair and the bone that covered his right jaw line belonged to. She also knew why he had a freshly grown arm; it was by her doing. Grimmjow stared at her expectantly.

"Well, c'mon girl." I couldn't help feeling just a bit anxious around him. He was much too much like Ichigo, only more violent and more reckless. I frowned, suddenly feeling no need to leave the room.

"I, uh…I'll just wait, I'm sorry." I made the mistake of turning my back on the Espada. He followed me into my room, grabbing my forearm. His grip was tighter than Ulquiorra's, and it frightened me. I knew Ulquiorra would not return until the morning meal was presented.

I felt his other hand brush my hair over my shoulder, revealing my neck to him. I stiffened immediately at his touch; goose bumps erupted over my exposed skin. His breath was on my neck and I tried to pull away from him.

"Where do you think you're going?" His arrogant voice was timed perfectly as he yanked me into his body. I felt his free hand begin to remove the glove that reached to just below my shoulder. My mind began to panic, as his fingers removed the ring that grounded the glove on my middle finger. What was he doing? Why was he doing this?

I felt his hand grip the newly exposed skin while his other hand removed my remaining arm cover. I heard the clink of metal on the stone when the ringed gloves hit the floor. I struggled to free myself again, fighting against the hold he had on me.

"Let me go!" I cried, feeling the panic take over. His grip loosened enough for me to shake free of his hold, and I turned to face him. "Get out," I said shakily, my knees quivering. His eyes looked wilder now, and he gave me a crooked grin.

"What if I don't want to? You look good enough to eat." I took a step back, my flight instinct coming to life. I knew it would be useless to try, and tears filled my eyes. Did Ulquiorra ask him to do this? I couldn't just stand there; I had to try to get away.

I ran, attempting to make the distance between us greater, but as I suspected, it was futile. He pursued me, pushing me down to the floor. My fear escalated, and I fought to get out from beneath him. I clawed at his face and almost was able to scramble to my feet, when he grabbed my shoulders and slammed me into the stone.

Stars winked in front of my eyes from hitting my head when he shoved me down. He had straddled me, still holding me by my shoulders. He looked down at me greedily, and I screamed for him to let me go. His smile widened, and he bit at my neck. I closed my eyes, feeling the stream of tears escape. I was his prisoner now, not Aizen's.

He took my wrists into one hand, forcing them above my head so fast it burned the muscles in my shoulders uncomfortably. His other hand began to unzip the front my strapless dress that was fashioned the same as my other. I knew what was happening, but I still didn't want to give in. I tried pulling my hands free from his unrelenting grasp, but he just tightened his hold. It felt like he would break them.

I felt the strain of the zipper being pulled down stop, and I opened my eyes. Hoping against hope he would just leave, just let me go. His hand reached to uncover my breasts before grabbing so tight to one I cried out in pain. The way his hand was massaging me hurt too much, as though he was trying to remove it from my chest. He leaned into me, and I turned my face away, shutting my eyes tight. However, he did not get close to my face, and I knew why when he bit down.

I whimpered, my ears becoming wet from crying. The zipper was tugged down even more before it stopped. Grimmjow released my wrists and I turned over immediately, using my knees to propel me forward, closer to the door. He grabbed at me as I managed to get to my feet, but instead he only had a handful of fabric. I heard him cursing as he stood up. I didn't stop running, despite my lack of clothing. I wanted to make it outside of the door.

I was within reach when he had grabbed me and thrown me over his shoulder.

"No, let me go! Please! Let me go!" I shouted with all my might, not knowing if anyone would hear or come to help, all the while hitting my fists against his back. He tossed me onto the sofa bed, taking off his jacket. I spotted the number six on his left rib cage.

"You're pissing me off," was all he said before he climbed on top of me. Please no, I begged silently with god. He pulled my legs apart, and I started crying harder. I have to be asleep! However, that thought was quickly removed by the pain that ripped through me. I was too dry for him to enter me, and he forced himself inside. I'd never felt anything like it before, the burn that shot through me was horrific. The stretching that occurred felt as though he was shattering my bone. I shut my eyes, drowning in the scream.

He grabbed my face, as he thrust inside me. "Look at me," he commanded with such anger, I could not disobey. I watched his feral expression as he grabbed hungrily at my body, and I attempted to imagine I was anywhere else, with Ichigo. He was brutally in me, sadistically causing every thrust, every pull to make me wince and cry in pain.

He then leaned back onto the bed, holding my waist tightly in his arms, but I could not focus on anything but the splitting pain that ricocheted through me. Finally, the pain seemed to stop. His voice called out to me again, and the torture grew.

With his hands digging into my hips, he was able to move me and him. I choked, feeling each thrust break further into me. "Look. At. Me." He punctuated each word by pulling me down as he thrust upwards. I looked down, seeing him strain as he forced himself into me. I could see my tears dropping onto him, too. I direly wished he would stop. I wanted it all to be over. I looked even further down as saw the blood that was on him and dripping onto my bed.

Then, I felt him shudder inside of me.

-Ulquiorra-

He had woken up earlier than he had expected to, given that he usually woke in time to deliver her breakfast. Ulquiorra rolled his shoulders, feeling them crack and release the built up nitrogen from the night. It was five in the morning, maybe earlier. Either way, he needed to go check up on the woman and make sure she was still alive.

He removed himself from his bed, reaching for his clothes. He had left her to one of his subordinates, and was sure she would be just fine. Then what Grimmjow had said only hours before registered with him.

"_You do realize if you don't fuck her, someone else will."_ Ulquiorra did not bother with his jacket, and left the room with only his shoes and pants on. He only walked swiftly, not wanting to appear distressed should he meet an insomniac Arrancar. As he thought, he passed no one in the hallways leading up to her room.

However, as he neared her door, he saw that the sentry he had posted earlier was nowhere to be found. Ulquiorra did not flare up with anger, even though he knew what Espada Number Six had done. He could not lose his composure, no matter what.

He opened the door, revealing Orihime's crying form, sitting on her red stained bed. He did not say anything as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. Calmly, he moved towards her, seeing how her body shook with each of her sobs. He did not sit on the soiled bed, but he still reached out to touch her. She flinched away from his touch, pushing herself down the couch, away from him. He noticed how she winced in pain.

Her bloodshot grey eyes found his bright green ones, and she sniffled, drawing her knees closer to her, trying to hide her naked state. He looked at her without saying anything. She dropped her head, curling into herself.

"I'll be good," she said, her voice muffled by her knees. He looked at her questioningly.

"What do you mean, woman?" His voice was cool, not giving away his concern for how badly she was taking this.

"I'll be good," she repeated. This was not the answer he was looking for, and he grabbed her by the shoulders, which caused her head to snap up.

"You have not answered me." He could feel his anger rising, wanting to know exactly what she meant by 'being good'. However, her lips quivered, and he saw her eyes well with tears. He could see how splotchy her face was from crying, and he inadvertently moved closer to her. The human desire that she had rekindled wanted him to bring peace to her.

"I-I'll do whatever you want me to do," she stammered quickly. Tears spilled from her eyes, and her hands touched the waistband of the pants he had on. "I-I won't give you any problems. I know that…that you sent him"—he knew the words she would say next—"to punish me."

"He was here of his own volition. I did not send him." Her hands dropped from his waistline and streams of tears fell down her cheeks. "Come on."

He grabbed her hands, but she immediately shrieked. "N-no, please don't!" He pulled her to her feet, ignoring her paranoid scream. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Let me go, p-please let me go," she whimpered. "I'll be good, I'll be good…" she started repeating those three words as though they were a lifeline. He pulled her into him, holding her fast so she wouldn't struggle. He leaned down, his lips touching the shell of her ear.

"I will not hurt you, Orihime Inoue." Her head dropped against his chest as her body shook from the tears. "You need to go to the baths. Do not worry, no one is awake now." She nodded against him, and he took it as acquiescence. Carefully, he took one of her hands again, and led them to the door.

* * *

_**TBC...**_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Kudos to Tite Kubo. I wouldn't have an awesome couple right now without you.

A/N: Hey everyone, thanks so much for the reviews! I'm really glad you're enjoying it so far. (And I was quite pleased with the number of hits the story's gotten so far. Loving it!) I also apologize that the length is shorter than usual.

EDIT: I finally discovered Bleach Wiki for spell check on characters' names. Schieffer is Cifer... Lol

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 3

-Orihime-

As he had said, there was no one in the hallways. I leaned heavily on him, each step hurting more than the last. My body was shaking, and I felt too tender to want to keep going. Eventually, I did stop, not wanting to continue to the baths. Ulquiorra looked down at me, and his arm wrapped securely around my waist. He hoisted me up, however the sick, roiling feeling in my stomach had not abated since _he_ left. I could not prevent myself from emptying my stomach on the floor. Ulquiorra said nothing; he just waited for me to finish before holding me to him, half-carrying me towards the bath area.

Inside the baths, Ulquiorra sat me down on a bench before turning the water on to fill the tub. He turned to me then, his eyes less severe than I had ever seen them. I could not look at him, more tears beginning to fall. I didn't understand what I was feeling as I looked away from him. He was not Ichigo. He was Ulquiorra Cifer, Espada Number Four, the enemy, and the man that kidnapped me.

"It will be easier if I carry you." His voice snapped me from my reverie. Catching me off guard, he lifted me up from the bench gently. I did not fight him, believing him when he had said he wouldn't hurt me. He carefully placed me in the hot water, but I was still crying. It hurt to be in water. Then I heard him remove his clothes. Water splashed over the edges of the large tub as I tried to get out.

He said nothing as he walked over to me and pulled me away from the edge. I screamed, struggling to free myself. I couldn't do this, not again, not today. "Be still, woman, I will not harm you." His voice was cold, but soft. I let him take me into the water, scared of what was going to happen.

He laid me on top of him, my back against his chest. His hands rubbed against my shoulders, but I was rigid in his arms. His touch did not alleviate that. Softly and slowly, he let his fingers massage my arms. "Relax," he murmured while kneading my body with care. Grudgingly, I leaned against him, laying my head on his shoulder while his hands touched me without sexual advances.

I closed my eyes while he continued his ministrations, unable to fight the fatigue I was feeling anymore.

* * *

I awoke on a soft bed, white linen sheets covering me. It was actually a bed! I sat up nervously, looking around. All I could remember was falling asleep in the bath with… I kicked off the sheets covering me. I shouldn't be here, I thought, looking at the door. I began to move from the bed when I noticed I had the dress from when I first came to Hueco Mundo.

It did not matter, though. I needed to get back to my room, before Aizen found out that I was no longer there. I slowly moved from the bed, watching the door as I did so.

"You do not have to leave." I froze with my hand on the door, turning to look behind me. I was still wary of him, even after he had helped me.

"I have to go to my room," I said nervously. Ulquiorra stood and walked towards me, his hands in his pockets.

"You no longer have a bed in that room." I nodded, understanding what he meant. "I have already spoken with Lord Aizen, and I would prefer you to stay here." I didn't know what to say. I looked at him, hoping to see some of the softness I had seen before I had fallen asleep. However, all of it had vanished. Not one sliver of his kind face shown now.

"Ulquiorra…" I trailed off, not sure of how to phrase any of my thoughts. He did not respond, forcing me to think quickly as he would not wait forever for me to speak. "It's okay for me to stay here?" His green eyes gazed into mine before he spoke.

"I have stated that I find it preferable you stay here." I bit my lip, hoping he would speak outright. "You may stay." I retraced my steps then, standing beside the bed. His eyes followed my movement, his scowl fixed upon his face.

"I'm not putting anyone out of their bed, am I?" I asked, pretty sure I knew to whom this room belonged.

"It is me that you are 'putting out of a bed', as you say. Though, I am not resentful. I made the choice to bring you here after you fell asleep." I blushed, remembering how we had bathed together, and how much he tried to have me relax. He seemed to care.

"Well…thank you," I said softly, carefully lowering myself back onto the bed. He said nothing, not looking at me. It was my turn to watch him as he walked towards the door. "Ulquiorra…?" His eyes found mine, looking severe.

"What do you want woman?" He appeared irritated, and I bit my lip, not wanting to annoy him further. However, as we looked at one another, his stoic face began to show impatience.

"Would you sit with me?" I exclaimed without thinking through my thoughts. My blush deepened, and I broke eye contact with the strange Espada. As my eyes dropped, I noticed the sword on his belt.

"I have been summoned. It appears your friends have become troublesome for our cause by making it into Las Noches." Ichigo… Immediately I felt a twinge of panic, feeling his and the others' spiritual pressure for the first time. They were coming to save me? But Ichigo…I'm not, not after…

"If you have concern, I will inform you of what happens." He took his leave then, and I curled in on myself and began to cry, realizing just how broken I really was.

-Ulquiorra-

The woman was making his job much more difficult than it had been four weeks previous. His (and Aizen's) biggest concern was that she not kill herself while under his care then. Now, Grimmjow had taken it upon himself to indirectly challenge him by taking claim to the woman that was now in his bed.

He had slipped from his emotionless state when he removed her from her room. He had an unmistakable desire that often curled within him, but when he found her, sitting on the blood-stained bed with tears pouring from her eyes, he wanted more than the desire of laying her back down. He had even taken her to his room, having just felt her body more intimately than ever without trying to take advantage of her.

He continued walking down the hallway, determined to find the gnats that were trying to interrupt plans that had been set in motion. And if he happened to see Espada Seis, he would enact the revenge that the woman was unable to give. He had heard her tears before he left the doorway of his room.

* * *

Ulquiorra turned away from the substitute soul reaper, trying his best to keep his apathetic face intact. He had forced Kurosaki's hand, and the reason behind it was because the boy didn't deserve her. Cursing under his breath, the Arrancar walked away from the scene.

His thoughts consumed him as he reentered the building he had just left. I need to change or at least wipe off his blood before seeing her. He carried himself to the baths, deciding it would be best to do both. Besides, he wanted to talk with her, and he needed her to not find out about the boy. He actually felt nervous over what he had done.

Once more today, the bathhouse was empty. Gratefully, Ulquiorra shucked his clothes, turning on the tap for the water. He took a step into the tub, wishing in spite of the recent events he had the company of the woman again. He contented himself with the fact that she was safely in his room, in _his_ bed, and sat down to wait for the water to come to his shoulders.

He was not one to relish a bath. He found them only necessary to remove unwanted impurities from the skin and sometimes hair. He did not particularly like them for the fact that the hole in his chest felt uncomfortable, but today was different. He imagined how the woman had felt, pressed against his back as he washed away the sin that had defiled her, rather than think about the gaping hole that made him a hollow.

Would Kurosaki have washed the woman if he had been the one to find her? He doubted it, though the boy might have comforted her in ways that he knew not. Ulquiorra balled his hand into a fist, hating the way his anger was triggered so easily when she was concerned. He realized why she was a growing problem for him. She was changing him from an unfeeling, soulless Arrancar to what he had been so long ago that his memories were faded like ink on old parchment.

How did she have this affect on him? He never had an inclination to please anyone since his rebirth as an Arrancar. How was it he feared her finding _he_ had slain the substitute soul reaper? His white hands lifted to his face, and he pressed them to his face, mimicking what the girl had done. Was this comforting to humans? He had seen her do this so many times when she appeared unhappy.

He could see her form in the darkness, emanating her own light to brighten the gloom about her. She was smiling at him, beckoning him forward. Her smile was so wide, her eyes had closed. He could hear her voice echoing in his head as his imagination gave life to the woman. It was innocent how she called to him.

_"Hurry Ulquiorra, you're so slow!"_

So very childish of her and yet, he felt a pang inside the hole. Did she lose that as well? The strange twitch seemed to leak out from the hole and fill in the pit of his stomach. He could feel it pulling at him as he laid in the bath. He was worried for her true innocence.

Sighing underneath his palms, he removed them from his face, finding none of the comfort that she seemed to be able to. He had no one he could consult, and he wanted no one to know. His humanity was returning.

* * *

**_TBC..._**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own.

EDIT!A/N: Sorry everyone who's just now reading this story. I went through the other night and fixed some of the breaks that were supposed to happen during the story. I apologize for any inconvenience impacted by this. I love you all!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 4

-Orihime-

I couldn't take it another minute in his room. As comforted as I was in there, I needed to be back in _my_ room. In my room I didn't feel so cut off from my friends, and I didn't feel like I was betraying them with every second I spent in the company of him.

I urged the door open; surprised at how heavy it was when it appeared to glide open for Ulquiorra and the others. Something inside of me twitched, knowing that my escaping from the room—my caretaker's no less—probably would not be good should I get caught.

However, unexpectedly, the hallway was bare. I was sure there'd be someone standing guard, someone watching to make sure I was safe, but there wasn't. Perhaps because it is Ulquiorra's room, I thought, inching out into the corridor. I was still not ready to accept that there was just me and the walls and the floor beneath me in my line of sight. I was sure I was about to hear Ulquiorra 'request'—more like force—me back inside.

I shivered unintentionally at the thought of anything being by force.

Composing myself, I finally caved and let my feet carry me swiftly from this hallway into another. I looked around, the maze undeniably intimidating. If I made one wrong move or opened the wrong door, that was it. I was done. My hair streamed behind me as my shoes clacked against the tiled floor ostentatiously. No one came after me, though.

I turned one of the corners, stopping in my tracks. My heart soared because I knew where I was. I rushed to the door, pulling with my thin fingers. An inch gave, then two. Who would have thought that I'd have been trying to get back inside my room? Shouldn't I be running? With no one around, shouldn't I try to escape?

I did not stop prying the door open, however.

I found that once I had made a sizeable gap to squeeze through, my sofa-bed had been replaced. Without my weak human hands sustaining the barely open door, it shut by itself. Something inside of me felt fragile, despite my resiliency. I could picture everything happening to me as though I was a twisted voyeur. Behind my couch, the clothes that had been removed without my consent were no longer there. It didn't matter that they weren't there. It didn't change the fact that I had lost a battle many women lose every day.

I did not move to the bed. Instead, I walked towards the window where the moon was always streaming down, dimly lighting the room. I began to wonder how long I'd be left alone when the door opened with ease and two female Arrancar entered the room.

* * *

My eyes darted from the new hole in the wall to the one responsible for making it. My stomach was in knots, standing under his glowering face. Any form of the lustful being within him disappeared underneath the pure hatred that enveloped his face. I had healed the two girls, in spite of the fact that they had smacked me around.

He bound my hands and gagged me. My trepidation grew as he covered me with a white sheet, and I felt my body become weightless, as if it didn't exist anymore. Before I knew it, I was forced outside of the nothingness. My gag was torn off and Ichigo stared blankly from the ground where he lay…

"Heal him." The solitary demand came from him. I would have accepted this, I would have immediately started to reject time, but I couldn't. Not after everything that had happened, I did not want to be his slave.

"I will not tolerate hesitation," his voice had dropped so that the child Arrancar that had been screaming since I reentered the world controlled by gravity could not hear. "I will take you again if necessary." My back went rigid, and I turned stoically to Ichigo, calling my friends to help.

The girl whimpered and told of how Ichigo was protecting her and that it was her fault that Ichigo is the way he is. It was in my nature to want to console this child, but I could not do so with Grimmjow staring me down. I could hear his silent urgings, even, but there was something wrong with the wound. The spirit energy surrounding it would not give into my rejection. Who on earth did this?

"It was Ulquiorra." Immediately, I faltered, but I recovered just as quickly, turning to look at the man at my back. "It's a quirk of his. I don't know if he notices it himself or not, but he has this habit of stabbing enemies that catch his eye in the same spot where his own hole is. I'll teach him what happens when you try to steal someone else's prey." I shuddered underneath the fury that exuded from him. His visage had contorted more so than I had seen that day. Then, Ichigo woke up.

-Ulquiorra-

Something was wrong. He thought he could sense the woman's presence while he was in the bath area, but it disappeared suddenly and a lingering scent distinct to her permeated the air where he attempted the 'human' form of relaxation. He sat up quickly, upsetting the water inside the large basin in his haste. Something was definitely wrong.

He immediately dried himself followed by clothing himself before marching—casually—over to _her_ room. He managed to keep his mask in place, his dead, apathetic eyes searching each of the Arrancar girls without moving in their sockets.

"Who did this?" He asked as he walked through the door, not the hole that had been blasted into the wall. It took them only moments to answer him with, "Grimmjow." He did not care that he had broke into the room unnecessarily, but the fact that he had entered her room again. He searched for Grimmjow, finding him next to a particularly bright piece of energy. Of course it was hers.

His sonido carried him immediately from the broken room, taking him straight to the revival scene. She was rejecting time and space around the substitute soul reaper, who was becoming conscious, and the Seis Espada had been standing, too close to the woman for Ulquiorra's liking.

His face did not show evidence of him losing a battle within him as he attacked Grimmjow for 'bringing back an enemy that had already been disposed of'. However, the fight ended sooner than expected due to Negación Negra. The dimension swallowed him whole, leaving him with a final glance at the woman whose face still held shock from having seen him arrive.

In the negation field, Ulquiorra stood in the void, contemplating how long it would take to break free from the area. In this place, it would have easily trapped the child Arrancar that he had seen near the woman. Of course, he had the power to break free from this void, but it would take some time. Not that he wanted to be wasting his time trying to rip it open. He needed to be outside, removing her from both men.

He turned this way and that, looking in through the pitch blackness for some way out. If it was there, he couldn't see it. Then, he could feel the darkness encroaching on him, beginning to trap him. If he stayed sedentary, he _would_ be trapped. That was the point of Negación Negra. If anyone was subjected to the void, eventually tendrils of the nothingness would attach to the individual to hold them at bay. This process acted much faster on stronger opponents, as if the negation field felt threatened by the foreign presence.

Acting fast, Ulquiorra reached out hoping—which wasn't something he did—to find the flat surface he usually did when ripping open dimensions to pass between Hueco Mundo and the living world. His arm was fully extended before the familiar feeling came under his fingertip. As the dimension between this nothing and Hueco Mundo opened, he could feel the blackness creeping towards him, gasping lamely at his feet.

Ulquiorra dove out quickly, rolling ungracefully in the space between the worlds. He righted himself before exiting the tiny hall-like passage into Hueco Mundo, where the woman and the two men had changed venue. He felt his blood boiling, he was ready to take on the soul reaper again, and kill Grimmjow if the boy hadn't yet. He would not let his underling get away with anything else when it concerned what was _his_. This time, Grimmjow would not be able to send him to a Limbo state. Ulquiorra could feel the uncharacteristic smile playing at the edges of his mouth as he relished the idea of killing the panther-esque Espada.

As he searched for the energy Grimmjow exuded, he noticed that the woman's had spiked in an unnatural way. He quickly became aware of the reason—the substitute soul reaper she loved so dearly was at a power level that was steadily overcoming the sixth Espada. Ulquiorra knew that it would only be a moment before Grimmjow was defeated.

* * *

**_TBC..._**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Don't own.

EDIT!A/N: Sorry everyone who's just now reading this story. I went through the other night and fixed some of the breaks that were supposed to happen during the story. I apologize for any inconvenience impacted by this. I love you all!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 5

-Orihime-

The mask he wore finally dissipated, and I was able to rest my friends. The shield quickly faded as they returned to me. I also could not shake the feeling that Nell was so much older for her to make the connection that Ichigo was fighting not only for her safety, but mine as well. I had been so frightened, though. Stricken mute from how much he reminded me of my brother from that time.

Nell then transformed into her actual, adult self. Strangely, she didn't seem much more mature when Ichigo was involved. Although, the fact that her breasts were bigger than Rangiku's and she was squeezing the life from him was doing little, in my opinion, to make her appear mature. However, it did not take long for the momentary lapse in fighting to be destroyed.

Some Arrancar grabbed me, attempting to drag me away from Ichigo and Neliel. Then, as I was being pulled, I watched as Neliel's eyes widen in shock and disbelief as a new Espada came onto the scene. I knew him from patronizing Ulquiorra for taking me to the most depressing garden I'd ever seen. Nothing here grew. Las Noches was indeed a wasteland.

Nnoitra cackled annoyingly so, immediately pressing on toward Ichigo with a crazed look in his eyes. However, Neliel intercepted him. She was able to protect Ichigo from the Arrancar with bloodlust so visible on his face. In doing so, though, Neliel reverted to her child from, crying for 'Itsygo' to get away. I was helpless in the situation; I was always the useless one.

"Kenny, do you think we found them?" A small, pink-haired girl chimed from a good distance. Lieutenant Yachiru…? I wasn't sure if I knew what I was seeing, especially since I could be hallucinating as a coping mechanism for whatever I really was going through. Then again, if I was hallucinating, why on earth would I keep myself from being useful to the others?

To make everything you're going through realistic. The nasty thought jumped into my brain before I could stifle it.

"You know, if you hurt me, Kenny's going to get mad." That taunting girl's voice broke into my thoughts, and she was much closer this time.

Before I could comprehend anything, I felt a wave of spiritual pressure that seemed practically endless. They really were here. My heart lifted, knowing that someone must've figured out that I wasn't a traitor. My joy almost could not be contained. But a sinking feeling dropped into my heart, forcing it into my stomach.

Would they kill Ulquiorra?

I did not know the answer to this. I didn't even know if he was indeed killable, but I needn't have worried because I was taken again while Ichigo and Captain Zaraki fought. When I looked to see my kidnapper, his face was stone. He appeared more unnerved in how tight his stoic face was than normally. Although, I was deducing what he was feeling with woman's intuition. The way he held me was wrong, too close to him to be comfortable, but it wasn't bad either. It felt like he was…protecting me? Ulquiorra? So he showed a little heart when I was…vulnerable, and now he's protecting me? I couldn't ask any of these questions though, fearing the truth, hesitant to know what ignorance is assuming.

He didn't stop carrying me until we were in the room I recognized as his. I should know; have only seen the inside of four of the vast amount of rooms. Carefully, he let me down, as if I were one of those sugar flowers I'd put on cakes at home. I blinked up at him, but he quickly faced away from me, for some reason not wanting to meet my eyes. We stood in silence, neither of us willing to break the quiet. I could have said numerous things, but everything inside of me was in knots. As the abnormal—for me—silence dragged on, I began to fidget; however, he put me out of my misery, so to speak.

"What does it mean to have a heart?" Taken aback, I gaped momentarily. What did he mean? "Woman, I have asked a question. Answer me." I swallowed, still staring at his back.

"Uh, to care without conditions…I suppose." The question was posed too fast for me to give a good answer, but I felt that was the main idea. Even as I stood there, gazing at the back of my kidnapper—the enemy—I couldn't force myself to call him either of those things. I had found myself in the impossible circumstance where someone who shouldn't, had the unconditional care I had spoke of. He still did not look at me though. Instead, he just walked out of the room.

I wanted to pursue him, perhaps to ask what I shouldn't. I wasn't sure, but my feet definitely started to carry me after him, nonetheless. I could still see his hakama as he walked forward, further away from me. My footfalls became repetitive, staccato against the tile—running forward. I was chasing him. I could feel the still air whipping around my face as I pushed to him. Why? Why was I following—racing after him? He then stopped, looking over his left shoulder directly at me, halting me. My heart pounded in my chest as those green eyes pierced me.

My foot shifted slightly back, faltering under the gaze, and he disappeared as I tried to correct the wrong move that I had made. My heart beat against my eardrums, thudding away to a song that it was always playing, except this was not the smooth, steady song. This song was new, and it threatened to overcome my ears and ribs as it tried to pop from both.

What was this? I loved Ichigo…didn't I? So why was I chasing after someone who clearly didn't know how to feel anything at all?

-Ulquiorra-

He knew it. Fear, it always flashed in the faces of those he was to kill, and he had see that fear in her eyes. The grayest eyes he had seen and he knew it. She was not immune to him. She feared him, in spite of the heart that had started to grow—albeit, painfully—in his chest. It was trying to force the hollow in his chest shut. He could feel it pulling at the skin to cover the horrific sight of the sunken area. Every time he began to feel towards _that_ woman, the hole would get smaller and become more painful.

I must do something. I cannot simply let her control me. His thoughts chased around in his head. She was afraid of him; therefore, making it impossible for her to ever understand what was happening. She also had the soul reaper.

The wall he punched buckled immediately under his fist. Something had to be done. Hogyoku or not, he would not allow himself to become human again. He would die first. He was the one in charge now. Aizen had gone off somewhere, and with Hueco Mundo under his command, Ulquiorra had the power to ensure he would not have to experience humanity again.

It was hell to have a heart.

And to be creating a new one was worse. He did not want to know what it was like when he was human, though the same feelings and desires had been arising for some time now. He would get rid of this. He would find a way.

* * *

Aizen had once confided in him where he kept the Hogyoku and how he managed to use it for his will. Ulquiorra carefully opened the door to the huge chamber, revealing the small sphere that held so much power. He would fix this once in for all.

He enclosed the sphere in his hands, fisting it. He could feel the surge that rushed into him; the Hogyoku vibrated hotly. The blue light of the reiatsu seeped from between his fingers, and his eyes widened as he felt the pressure burst through his own. He had not expected this to happen to him, being the fourth Espada. He was supposed to be strong enough to endure the Hogyoku's power.

His fingers relinquished their grasp on the glowing sphere, light engulfing his vision. Ulquiorra staggered back, feeling the pain of being run through as the reiatsu exploded. He was brought to a kneeling position, his own spiritual pressure flickering sporadically underneath the thickness of the Hogyoku. He could feel himself becoming weaker as he stayed in the presence of the demonic sphere. It was as if it was trying to recall his power. A stream of obscenities spilled from the too proper mouth however choked they were by the blood that flowed just as easily.

"Fuck." Red dribbled down his chin as he crawled towards the exit. He needed to escape. He reached a hand up the wall, his fingers finding the correct places to open the door much different than the others. As he finally caught his breath in the not-so-full antechamber to the Hogyoku's secret place, he quickly unbuttoned the collar of his jacket. Before losing himself to the immense pain he felt from his spiritual lines trying to reconnect, he figured it was a good thing the woman was frightened of him. At least she wouldn't see him so weak.

* * *

When he came to, he saw his ceiling and he upset both his and the woman's head as he sat up. She grasped at her forehead and he grimaced, refusing to show the weakness she was. She let out a pained moan, and though it was quiet, it felt as though she had shrieked with all her might as it reverberated against his eardrums and, in turn, his throbbing head.

"Sorry," she immediately apologized, sitting down on the floor at the foot of the bed. She then realized it was her voice that was causing the problem, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hands. A blush was working its way over her cream-colored flesh. He suppressed the fact that his head was beating at almost the exact same speed as his human heart had and worked on questioning her instead.

"Woman, how did I get here?" He also noted vaguely how his reiatsu seemed more stable than the last time. She did not answer immediately, her face erupting with that reddish hue again, clashing with the rust color in her hair. If he was going to admit it, she did not appear unattractive despite the competing pigments. Her innocence shined more and more brightly, though. His brain pulsed harder still against his internal skull, and he actually had to fight from clutching his head.

"I…I went to look for you…and I found…you," she didn't meet his gaze. She knows the verbal retort that's coming. He was slightly taken aback at her readiness to accept his punishment. He could not be harsh to her. He knew she had done something to fix the internal workings of his spiritual pressure.

"You should not have done that. You could have been captured again." He ignored the fact he meant her friends capturing her—or Nnoitra finding her. The Fifth Espada never really understood boundaries, either. It seemed to be only a characteristic that he—Ulquiorra—and Neliel had possessed. "You do not leave this room without my escort. If you do, I will kill whomever you go with." She nodded solemnly, taking his wrath with grace. "You are still Lord Aizen's, despite a minor imperfection now." Her eyes found his, widening at the coolly mentioned loss of her virginity.

In spite that he had almost died, he had found himself again after approaching the sphere Aizen leaned on so much. He spoke to her levelly, though desire was there, it was not the human desire of comfort and longing. It was purely a need to feed on something innocent, a hollow's carnal desire.

While he was contemplating his newfound self, she had puffed up, reminiscent of a ruffled bird. She had also gotten to her feet, and before he even thought to stop her, her hand struck his still-tender head. His green eyes caught hers with anger flickering through them. Thusly, the desire flared.

He grabbed her by her shoulders and threw her down onto the bed. Her clothes were done away within milliseconds, and she was completely at his mercy. He held her down much better than Grimmjow had, pinning her to the bed. He was not going to let her get away from him. The hole in his chest seemed to rip in a different way as his eyes looked down on the girl beneath him. Then he could hear her voice.

"N-no, please don't! Let me go, p-please let me go," she whimpered. "I'll be good, I'll be good…" Those words were the same as before, and he found himself pulling away from her. His hole gave a twinge, and he could feel it trying to close again. She did this to him; she continually made him fight for control over his humanity. No matter what he was always losing this fight and he couldn't bring himself to be the one who breaks her. He refused to do that to her, and he retreated from the room, leaving the naked woman sobbing on the bed.

* * *

**_TBC..._**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! I finally caught some down time this week to finish this chapter. Enjoy!

EDIT: OMG ! I don't know whether to be angry it took a week for you to fix this or hug you because you fixed it. (I was unable to upload in a timely matter thanks to the site blocking my "Edit" button for my stories. Thankfully, it's fixed, and here's the next chapter. (The seventh chapter will be posted tomorrow for the convenience that it may provide, and that's sort of the unofficial day I publish.)

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 6

-Orihime-

I couldn't believe how close that had been. My eyes were still wet with the tears as I readjusted myself on the bed. I pulled my knees to my chest, using the light sheet to cover my stark body. I could feel the ghost of his rough hands lingering on my shoulders. I still felt like he was on top of me, frightening me—but if I was being honest, exciting me, too.

I shouldn't have struck out at him like that; I had already slapped him one time before. Yet, he wasn't the same as before. He seemed different after he had come to. He never attempted such a move on me, no matter how close we got. Granted, the only times we were close was when he threatened to force-feed me my nutrition and when I became obstinate with him.

He had to have done something to himself. His reiatsu was completely warped now. The chakra lines in his body had barely repaired under her rejection, and even it could not heal the most crucial of them all. It was like it had hemmed the base so not to allow more of its edges to fray and wither.

Suddenly, fear rushed into me. I knew what that one line of spiritual energy went to, and it was not something that could be left alone. I leapt from the bed, begging the closet to have a change of clothes for me. He had been expecting me to stay, so surely he would have grabbed one extra dress for me.

He didn't disappoint me; there was a dress nicely folded on the floor of the closet and I immediately pulled it on. I had to find him. I rushed out of the room, trying to think of where I might find him. I highly doubted he'd still be inside the building of Las Noches, and I realized as I ran, that the only way I'd be able to reach the outside is through the stairs. I had to get to him before he released his resurrección.

I hurried down the corridors, looking for the entrance to the stairwell. I had to find him, even if it meant going into the relentless night, I had to. When I caught sight of it, I raced to the stairway, however, the door burst open to reveal someone I hadn't expected to see.

"Uryu…what are you…?" I cried out in shock, my feet planted in the ground. I couldn't show up outside with him. Ulquiorra would kill him with ease. He appeared to have already endured a laborious fight.

"We don't have time, Orihime—c'mon!" He grabbed my hand, tugging me towards the stairs, but I did not budge. I could not afford for his life to be on my hands, too. I had enough blood with Ulquiorra's. I shook my head at him, trying to pull my hand back from him.

"He'll kill you if he sees you with me," I tried to sound calm, but I could hear how badly it shook. I didn't want him to lose his life trying to get me out of here. Uryu did not listen as he grabbed my arm and yanked me forward, propelling me into a run. He still held my arm as we ran.

"Ichigo needs you." It was a simple sentence, and my guilt for whatever I was feeling towards Ulquiorra drowned out the fact that Uryu could die. I was supposed to love Ichigo. He was the one I said goodbye to all that time ago. I could not risk Ichigo's life just because I had…a crush…on the enemy. I ran with Uryu until we broke to the surface. I could see the two of them standing off. I left my other friend behind to look on to the two men, both heaving from the exertion.

Ichigo's eyes wandered to me while Ulquiorra spoke coldly to him, and yet I could not bear to look him in the eyes. Ulquiorra's eyes had found mine, too, and I felt my heart jump.

"…That woman is already one of us. Even if you manage to rescue her, that won't change." Ulquiorra's voice had lost its soft quality, turning harsh as he bit out the words. I knew it, too. Grimmjow had even said something during his fight with Ichigo. I wished horribly that Grimmjow would die before he revealed everything. Though, he might as well have said everything, _"Were you relieved to see her unharmed? But you don't know about the inside."_

"Rescuing her is meaningless." Ichigo flared up at that, and the battle commenced further. I didn't dare enter into the fray, though I knew my status would stop Ulquiorra's rage. I watched with worried eyes as the two fought. It was stupid; there was no need to fight! Ichigo slashed through the front of Ulquiorra's jacket, tearing it open enough for the prominent '4' to stand out on his chest. Blood seeped from a small wound, and Ichigo snorted.

"I couldn't read any of your moves before, but now I can. Whether it's because I've become more like a hollow…or you've become more human, I don't know." Ulquiorra seemed to stiffen considerably at the mention of being human, and he lashed out with a great force. I cringed away from the blow, feeling my hair whipping around my face.

Ulquiorra however, did not lie down. He continued an onslaught of attacks and reflexively I called out to build my shield to protect Ichigo. I didn't realize what I had done.

"What are you doing?" I faltered under his jealous gaze. I couldn't get any words out. "I'm asking why you helped him." I couldn't answer him. I didn't know. I had come here to tell him not to transform, to end whatever fighting they were doing. I had come here to tell Ichigo to leave with the others before anyone died. I just could not get the words to cooperate with my mouth.

Then, as the fight grew, I watched Ichigo's mask cover his face and I saw Ulquiorra flee to the outer dome, breaking free. My eyes widened in shock as he spoke his next words.

"It is forbidden for any Espada over four to release within the dome."

No! My mind shrieked as my face felt as though it twisted in pain, watching and waiting for Ulquiorra to take the second step to shredding the hemming on his barely repaired spiritual energy.

-Ulquiorra-

He had never felt so alive in his life. Fighting this human was actually calling him back to how he enjoyed the taste of victory on his tongue. The woman would be his after this battle, whether the Quincy wanted him to take her or not. Staying hollow forever be damned, humanity would not be so bad as long as he won this fight.

The substitute soul reaper tried countering his moves, but to no avail. He figured it was time to show him the true cero of the Espada. The black light shot out at the boy, and he was engulfed by the darkened flare. He approved of them being here, above the dome, fighting with his full might. Well, almost full power. He still had one stage to go before he was there.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, give up, this is a battle you cannot win." He would not stay down, and though it irritated him, Ulquiorra was ready to take him down. Ichigo's obstinate nature seemed to goad him on, but Ulquiorra could see the arrogance of this human. He would show him his true form.

The second release was powerful, overcoming the area with an aura of dark power. The spiritual energy that flowed through him felt slightly different, but he expected that, especially since he had recently broke all of his chakra lines and had them repaired. He, however, did not mind. He observed how the substitute soul reaper felt under the presence of such power.

"Look, Kurosaki Ichigo, this is my Resurrección Segunda Espada—true despair in the eyes of you humans." The boy looked frightened, seeing him in his full regalia. Ichigo was on his knees, staring in awe of the reiatsu that burst forth from him. Ulquiorra could feel the power just burning through him. His eyes caught the slightest twitch of the sword in Ichigo's hands and he knew that the boy would not disappoint by giving up.

He threw the boy into a pillar, destroying it with such force. Then he felt that familiar presence. Ichigo was going to die while the woman he was trying to save watched. It pleased him more to fight with her in the audience. He would prove to her that he could protect her better than this weakling.

"So you've come, woman," he whispered, glaring down at her. Her eyes were on him, but he returned to the boy, who was in his clutches. He traced a circle against the boy's chest. He assumed she screamed at him to stop to save the boy's life. However, the deed was done and Ichigo's chest was torn from him. A gaping hole, much bigger than his, had formed on the teenager. Ulquiorra's job was finished.

He would have returned to his former state and taken the woman with him had the Quincy not shot one of his damned arrows. Distracted, he lost sight that he could still get away with the woman and engaged the Quincy, tearing his arm from his body so as to not be shot again with pure reiatsu. The Quincy was no match for him.

All the while, she was trying to heal her friend, though she should have known it was useless. Then something within him tore hard at the sound of her voice, and he felt the humanity within him try to break free in a jealous rage.

"Help me Ichigo!" Her voice—that tearful siren's call—drove the boy back from the dead, to his surprise. However, the boy was not the same. A hollow, a Vasto Lorde form, appeared where Ichigo had been. The hollow attacked, forcing the Quincy to protect the woman. Ulquiorra was compelled to produce a cero to block the powerful attack.

The attack did little against the more powerful cero. It did not make sense. Then he felt his own arm being torn from his body, and he hissed through his teeth. It did not matter, he would regenerate fast enough. The hollow did not speak, only letting out guttural sounds. This new body was driven purely by the instinct to survive, and Ulquiorra had to rely on his. Ulquiorra was not going to let the vicious hollow get the better of him, though the threading to the ball of spiritual energy within him felt truly foreign to him now.

He hadn't expected the threads to be so overdrawn; furthermore, Ulquiorra would have never thought he would be on his back at the mercy of the strange individual that was standing over him. Yet, he all too suddenly was. He glared up at the Vasto Lorde, not willing to die like a coward. He urged the hollow to kill him. The way she had looked at him, he knew he had nothing left to live for. He felt the burn as his body was scorched from the closely fired cero. He did not disappear, though.

As he regenerated, he watched at the Quincy attempted and failed at getting the hollow-like Ichigo to stop attacking. What he earned from his quest had been a sword inside his stomach as the woman cried out for the Quincy. He moved then, not daring to be in the line of fire. However, he saw that the woman had hesitated again. The hollow did not recognize her as he began to build up another cero.

Then, he felt it. His main chakra line had begun to unravel, and he knew it would not be long until it destroyed him. He would save the woman before vanishing, and he did. Slicing off a horn of the hollow, Ulquiorra was able to stop the cero from completing its charge and caused the hollow to fall.

Sure, his leg and arm were regenerating, but that didn't matter. He had damaged himself by trying to not become human. His eyes widened as he watched the substitute soul reaper heal. How could that be? The boy stood up, and looked between all that was there. Of course, Ulquiorra scoffed. The boy then nobly requested that in continuance of the fight that he, Ulquiorra, cut off his arm and leg, too, so that they would be on even ground.

However, Ulquiorra's time was up. The unraveling line finally found the last bit of his chakra and ate it away. He was slowly turning to dust. The boy was too weak to finish him off, and so the Cuatro Espada faced the woman.

"Are you afraid of me, woman?" A question that needed answering since he had done what he had done to her. He reached out for her, but she did not shy away from him.

"I'm not afraid," she said slowly, softly, her hand reaching out for his.

"I see." He felt himself slipping away, watching her beautiful face begin to fill with tears as he did.

* * *

_**TBC...**_


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Like I promised, here's the seventh chapter ^_^

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 7

-Orihime-

I watched him disintegrate, the ash floating softly away in the wind. I dropped to my knees. Gone, he wasn't dead—he was gone. I had hoped to find what was left and save him, but I couldn't do anything now. I wept.

Ichigo and Uryu watched me; I could feel their eyes on me. I didn't heed my internal want to stop crying to hold Ichigo and Uryu. It was impossible. My heart was bursting from witnessing something that was akin to Sora's death, and again, I didn't get a chance to say what was needed to be said. My body was racked with the anguish that had begun to wash over me as—if I was going to go ahead and admit it—two important people in my life fought to the death.

"Orihime…" Ichigo's strong voice spoke to me. I felt his gentle touch on my shoulder, but oddly, it did not comfort me like it would have done before all of this had happened. I did not respond to his touch, so he seemed to think more should be said. Only, Ichigo's words were harsh.

"He's not worth it. He—"

"He protected me!" I shouted at him. I did not know why I yelled at him, I could have easily said it softly, but I could not help myself. He had kept me safe, as safe as he could, and to hear Ichigo say that I shouldn't cry for him made me feel anger coil inside of myself. My head did not seem to comprehend that I was yelling at a friend that had risked his life to save me. My heart was blinding it.

"He's the enemy, Orihime," Ichigo's voice was filled with shock, but I could see the ire playing under his features. Now he noticed me.

"No! He saved me, I have to save him!" I had forgotten about Uryu being with us until he finally spoke.

"Orihime, you cannot save him. He's…gone." Instantly, I felt defiance. I was not going to believe it, not until I tried. However, before I could call my Rikka, they had spurred into action of their own accord, spanning over the entire dome. I had never created such a large rejection field. They knew and understood my grief.

Underneath the golden light, I could feel my spirit lift. I could feel him there, but only just. I focused on those particles of ash, hoping that I wasn't too late. My eyebrows knitted together as my eyes shut tightly, willing everything to recombine. Suddenly, a surge of regeneration localized under my hands, and just as it had begun, it stopped. My Rikka returned, snuffing out the bright light effectively. My knees buckled from under the strain I had put myself under, and I collapsed to the ground. When I finally had the courage to open my eyes, I felt the tears stinging prickles return.

The bone that he had worn on his head lay in front of me. Had I been standing, it would have lain at my feet, not that it mattered. I had only brought back this little bit of him. I knew I did not have the capability of bringing him back, but I still hoped that I could've done it.

A hand clasped my shoulder, and I knew the presence of who had moved closer to me. Through my tears, I could see Ichigo, his lips pursed as he offered me the bone. He proceeded to offer it to me; a test of my loyalty? I did not care. I reached up and received it. Ichigo said nothing, ire exuding from him in waves much like his spiritual pressure had only moments ago.

"Should we go—Orihime's safe now." Uryu's voice broke the tense silence; however, the tension was not completely alleviated. Ichigo's next words were proof of that.

"We'll leave, and she can come back, that is, if she can." I knew he was angry, but he was blaming this all on me. How was I to know I'd be kidnapped? How was I to know how much time Ulquiorra and I were meant to spend together? How was this all my fault—that somehow along the way of being paid attention that I found a heart in a hollow? Uryu helped me to my feet.

"Orihime, we're not blaming you—" The peacemaker was cut off.

"The hell we're not." Ichigo had never been this cold before! I pushed past Uryu, forcing him to hold onto the bone, and finally showed the redhead I was.

"No, I did nothing wrong! _You_ came here. _You_ insisted on 'saving me'." With each 'you' I poked his chest, and I used my fingers to create the quotes. Ichigo looked like he was going to interject, but I cut him off. "No, I never asked you to come! When I said goodbye to you, I intended for you to _not_ come. None of you listened to me! I was fine—everything was fine! And he's _dead_ because of your inability to control that damn thing you harbor inside of you!" I glared up at him, my chest heaving. This was something I would not take responsibility for.

The silence was deafening after I finished, Ichigo staring at me with incredulity coloring his features. He had never expected me to lash out at him, either. However, the two of us were not left to ourselves long as our eyes tried to physically pierce the other.

"Ichigo, it appears everything is in order. You, Miss Inoue, and the Quincy should follow me." Byakuya had joined us on the dome, breaking up the fight for the moment. Ichigo's hard sideways glance at me sent a thrill of anger down my spine. He moved first towards the Kuchiki heir, and Uryu's hand closed over my shoulder. His lips were at my ear.

"Do not engage further, Orihime. Not now at least, please set this aside until we've returned to Karakura Town." As much as I wanted to resist, I knew he was right. My inner reasoning knew better, and for now, the topic would not be breached again. I would refuse to speak with him though.

"Do not tarry, both senkaimon and reishihenkanki will not stay open for long. We have already seen to it that my sister and your other human got through safely." The formal soul reaper spoke to only us before turning his back to walk with Ichigo. We did as told.

Rukia looked bad, and I asked politely if I may heal her. Squad Four's captain, Unohana, obliged, saying furtively, "Your rejection works much faster than our healing." So I sat down beside her futon and summoned my Rikka. I focused on each wound, remembering when I healed Ichigo. My resolve wavered picturing him dead. I visibly shook myself, forcing away the thought because my feelings towards him were too raw and made me wish I had disobeyed Grimmjow.

I felt sweat breaking out over my forehead and one of the nurses attending to me brushed a cool, wet cloth to help ease the exertion I was placing on my body. My Rikka were a part of me, and I them. I could not do something with them and have it not affect me. I felt all of the miscellaneous wounds closing, tissues connecting with tissues and blood replenishing. However, the wound where the Espada had last stabbed her still throbbed, as if she was still impaled with the sword.

"Or-Orihime…" Rukia's voice was weak and she barely opened her eyes to look at me. My eyes found hers briefly before I felt the invisible sword lift from inside of her. Rukia winced, but the rejection finally completed.

"Please, Miss Kuchiki, don't sit up just yet!" Another nurse appeared at the door, followed by Unohana and Ichigo. I stood saying nothing except, "I'm happy you're okay, Rukia." Subdued, I removed myself from the room, Ichigo's gaze burning into me as I did so. I even felt the captain's eyes flash at me, but she did not move, too concerned about Rukia.

I ran after I knew that I was out of the hearing range of all of the soul reapers in Squad Four. I needed breathing room, as my heart was constricting painfully in my chest, beating just as awfully as I ignored everything around me. In turn, I missed that Uryu was there.

He took hold of my forearm, not gripping tight enough to hurt, but he did stop me in my tracks. I looked up at him in confusion before he pulled me into a warm hug, allowing the warm wetness on my cheeks to ruin his Quincy outfit. I had not realized the tears until then.

"Orihime, I wish I knew what happened to you in Hueco Mundo." A confession—one I could not deal with now. I had been…cheated. I thought of the word scornfully, knowing full well how Uryu had been when Yoshino's allies took her from him. I could not pull away knowing that. We had both lost someone in the fires of war. I buried my face into his chest and clutched to him with a desperation I hadn't felt since Sora.

I let myself mourn with someone who understood my pain. Uryu's hand was soothing on the back of my head as he petted the hair atop my head. I did not mind though, picturing how _he_ would've looked comforting me.

He had done it before, in the baths. He was awkward, as if he had never done it before. He had contented himself with just soothingly rubbing my arms, not straying from them. Morbidly, I wondered what he thought as he disintegrated. I kept looking into his eyes, those longing green eyes. He reached for me, but we never touched. He was gone before I could get to him, and he did not look away from me. It was my fault. "It is always my burden when something goes wrong because I am the weakest."

"Don't say that." I nearly leapt from Uryu's arms; however, it was no longer Uryu who held me. He was looking down at me, the eyes shining much more vividly from the monotonous cold that had filled them. The wall had been replaced with a softness I had only felt in some of his caresses. I wanted so badly to cling to him, to cry with the joy that was welling inside of my heart, and I gave in to the urge.

My hands pulled against his bare back, my cheek pressed flush against his pallid chest, and my tears flowed freely once more for the miracle of seeing him again. I knew he would not understand, and I wasn't shocked when he spoke.

"Woman, cease and desist." Though the words were as emotionless as before, the eyes found mine again, coaxing me out of tears with the soul I could clearly see inside. As if on a cue, my eyes trailed down his angular face, tracing the frame of his jaw, his neck before resting on the skin over his heart. I sighed contentedly, noticing that the '4' had been removed, too.

"You…you're no longer Espada." My voice trembled as I slowly lifted my face to look into his eyes again. Humor reigned, an emotion I never thought to see—never knew he was capable of, inside those too green eyes.

"I am not," he confirmed. "You gave me freedom when you healed me." With the statement, his eyes transformed into ones that were trying to devour mine, refusing to relinquish the hold his gaze had. I blushed from the conviction inside of them, and I fought back tears at his words.

"But…I didn't."

-Ulquiorra-

He had fought too long against his humanity, and he almost welcomed the warm golden glow he associated with her. He knew her to be the one controlling it; otherwise, he wouldn't have felt the mark of an Espada dissolve. He was now caught underneath this bright light that was trying to tell him it was all right to give himself back to his humanity. How could he not listen, it was her voice speaking to him as he lay there under her warmth. What would be so wrong with giving in?

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_**TBC...**_


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I disclaim that I own these characters; however, I _do_ own the storyline.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! Things get a little clearer for you in this chapter. Enjoy!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 8

-Orihime-

The vision receded and I became limp in Uryu's arms. I could barely hear his shocked voice as he called out to me. I felt him shake me gently. All I could focus on was the fact that he had been there. I had felt his skin beneath my hands. I had heard his voice.

"Orihime," Uryu's scared shout only just made it through to me. I didn't really respond to him. My eyes slightly refocused on him, the glare of his glasses shielding his eyes from me. However, I knew how to read the emotions the rest of his face was saying. He was panicked; the tension in his cheeks and the way his mouth was set spoke volumes of what was not getting through to me.

I tried to find my feet, but I could not fully put weight on my shaking legs. I leaned hard against Uryu, forcing myself to my feet. Finally, I could hear the words he was practically crying.

"Orihime, please, snap out of—" I stopped him as I had actually moved in his arms.

"I'm ok…" I said slowly, and the sigh of relief from Uryu felt almost as heavy as I must have been in his arms. His clutched me to him, his head on top of my shoulder.

"Thank God," he murmured against my ruined Espada dress. He pulled back, looking at me. "What happened to you?" His eyes searched my face, still appearing worried. I couldn't say. I turned my head, biting my lower lip. Would he understand better than Ichigo? I didn't want to be under the scrutiny of Uryu's perceptive gaze.

"Come on, I'll take you to Unohana, she can help." My unquiet rage broke free from me as I jerked my entire body away from him. I thought he understood.

"She can't help! No one can…" I finished in a whisper. I turned away from him then, continuing my previous pace despite how light-headed I was. I needn't have worried anyone would follow me either. After all, Ichigo was still angry with me as well as being preoccupied with Rukia's recovery. I had just left Uryu, Renji was back tending to his duties as lieutenant, and Chad had returned to Karakura Town before the rest of us had made it into the Soul Society.

I gave up running; I had a stitch in my side and my vision had black dots obscuring some of the view. I sat down, feeling defeated. The dream had been so real, so salient. My mind was cruel, though, making me believe he truly was there, holding me in his arms. However, being so wrapped up in myself I had failed to realize where I had decided to rest—not that it was a bad thing. Both the captain and lieutenant exited their squad's quarters at the same time, and the latter addressed me.

"Orihime," she cried out loud, and instantly my face was brought into a chest about as big as mine. My nose and mouth were shoved into skin, and I strained for what little oxygen I had left in my body.

"H-hey," I tried to say, not sure if the muffled garble was actually discernable. I could just barely make out Captain Hitsugaya over her shoulder. He did not appear amused. He looked slightly annoyed about something. Perhaps I was the one who was taxing him?

"Rangiku let her breathe." The simple command managed to get the older woman off of me so I could do just that. Heaving a sigh after several hacking coughs, I tried to appear bright to both of them. Captain Hitsugaya's haughty expression did not change as he looked at me.

"Where were you off to, Orihime?" His voice wasn't too cold, but it held authority. I saw Rangiku turn to look at her captain, her smile dropping. I tried not to let this worry me.

"I was just out for a stroll…" I laughed weakly. I watched Rangiku shake her head almost imperceptibly. The captain ignored her.

"Head Captain Yamamoto held a meeting with the captains available before your return, Orihime." I bit my lip, not liking at all where this was going. If the Head Captain was involved…what did that mean for me exactly? I mentally shook myself.

"Captain please, she must have just gotten back! Look at her, she's a mess!" Rangiku was protesting her captain, which she would most likely be punished for in due course.

"Lieutenant, know your place." Toshiro Hitsugaya spoke too maturely for the body that harbored his soul, and his admonishment caused Rangiku to quiet quickly, her teeth gnawing at her lower lip. "Orihime Inoue, you are still labeled a traitor, and you must speak in your own defense in order to rectify the label. As such, you were not apprehended by Unohana because she feels healing is her only job unless her hand is forced. You will stay here, in our barracks, until the time has come for Captain Yamamoto to hear your justification for what you've done." In an instant, as if they had been listening at the gate, two men from Squad Ten pulled me to my feet.

"I am sorry it has to be this way, but I promise we are not cruel." I wanted to scream. I wanted to wrench my arms free from the two guards and call Tsubaki to attack. If only Tsubaki was healed, he would be able to help. However, I could do nothing to them. I was trying to prove my innocence, not convict myself.

The two men grabbed an arm each, escorting me into the squad's barracks. As I looked over my shoulder at the captain and lieutenant that had once shared my home back in Karakura Town, I sighed, knowing that each did not wish to play a role in this.

-Ulquiorra-

He awoke, sore, stiff, and confused. Confusion was not in his vocabulary, nor was it his nature. He knew facts. He could reiterate as many as one person could want in one sitting. He had lived, and he had died. However, this process was beginning to feel like déjà vu. Had he died and resurrected before? No, that was not a possibility. The fact was: you live and then you die. There is no life after death; there is no 'coming back'. Yet, here he was, his heart still beating.

He laid there in bed, not willing to open his eyes just yet. His mind was trying to calculate what had transpired, but he was only drawing blanks. He felt himself drift back to sleep.

Except, there was a vague outline of an individual, a child, and was standing just far enough back that he or she was shrouded in shadow. The child was familiar to him, despite his not being able to see the face.

He watched closely and, as if the child had noticed his presence, he or she turned towards him. A glint of something in the child's hair caught his attention. He knew only females wore things in their hair. He didn't know who she was or what she was to him, but the feel around the child was recognizable.

His eyes widened as he watched her begin to grow. The hair that had been so short grew out to the middle of her body. Her height was added to, but she remained petite. The barrettes—perhaps that is what the hair ornaments were called—lingered as well. He continued staring as she looked herself over, almost like she was surprised at the sudden growth spurt. She then began clapping and jumping giddily.

Fascinated, his eyes measured the distance between her leaps and the ground. She pulled her heels towards her backside, increasing the distance from only a few inches to more than a foot. Suddenly, she stopped, and he watched as her skirt lengthened to the floor. He stared, seeing her foot slide forward towards him.

"Ulquiorra…?"

He jerked up from the dream, startled, which was a feeling he did _not_ feel. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out while his eyes surveyed his room. The ceiling appeared much higher, due to his being on a futon—not a bed. Dawn had yet to break, his window revealing a dark night sky marred slightly with the city lights. The shoji door to his room was covered with traditional paper, a picturesque scene of bonsai trees.

He vaguely remembered being led into this room. A man named Urahara had found him in dire need of help. In all honesty, Ulquiorra didn't recall how he had gotten in front of the man's shop. He thought he had been dead then, and now he was beginning to think he was only over exaggerating how badly injured he was.

'You're very lucky my friend,' said the shop owner. 'Not many people here are as hospitable at the moment. There were a few burglaries recently.' The man had his coworker lift him from the road and take him inside.

Inside, he had found there were two kids that also lived with this man. The girl seemed much more mature than the boy, and the way the two treated each other he figured them to be siblings. Ulquiorra sat at the table as a rice bowl with a plate of cooked salmon was placed in front of him.

'Eat; you look as though you haven't in several days. Then, while you rest, I will check the injuries that you've sustained.' Ulquiorra knew it would be rude to refuse food, and he ate with polite fervor. The salmon tasted delicious, and he surprised himself by desiring seconds. The girl, Ururu, blushed and quickly rushed to get him more food. He finished the food, thankful to have something in his stomach. However, as he stood up, the pain in his head hit an apex, and he collapsed.

Now he was in this room, alone with his thoughts of things that weren't possible. He spent the next few hours till dawn lying on his back, trying to find the truth in his muddled mind. He was alive, not dead. Something had happened to cause him to have amnesia. He knew he was Ulquiorra Cifer. His mother was Esmaria Isabelle Cifer, and she had moved to Japan for her career. She met his Father not too long after moving, and he left her not too long after becoming pregnant with him.

Mother taught him both Spanish and Japanese, so he could blend in with the kids at school. She taught him to be quiet, and told him not to act up. He did not have to try hard at this, as his mother practiced much of what she taught him. She had to blend in, too. However, in school, he was always noticed because he had his mother's bright green eyes.

He was shunned, though he did not mind. He found the children boorish and annoying. He had preferred the teachers' intellectual talk, and learned quickly. He came home one afternoon to give the slip of paper to advance him two grades. Mother had not been happy with the fact he was standing out, but she did sign the paper. She even said she was proud that her son was so smart.

Though he went through his childhood easily, Ulquiorra could not reminisce over his teenager years. He simply could not remember. Before he could become unsettled by this fact, Urahara and his coworker entered his room. The shop owner smiled brightly underneath his green and white striped hat, speaking jovially.

"Good to see you awake. You must have had a bad fall for that to happen." Urahara gestured to his entire body. Ulquiorra fought the grimace, knowing how much emotions controlled society.

"I thank you for your generosity, but I believe it is time for me to go. I have intruded far too long on you all." He tried to get himself into a standing position; however, Urahara had other plans for him. Ulquiorra was on his back with a gentle bur firm hand on his shoulder.

"Tessai and I would prefer you stay here until your wounds have completely healed. Besides, you seem to have hit your head hard enough to have some mental incapacitations." Ulquiorra looked up at the shop owner, who seemed too carefree to understand thorough medical examinations. Then Tessai shuffled forward with a cup, and silently handed it to his boss.

"You'll need to drink this so you may rest." Urahara then sat him up to take in the liquid. It was bitter and laced with some form of sleep agent. Ulquiorra felt himself falling asleep before his head hit the pillow.****

* * *

_**TBC...**_


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: All hail Tite Kubo (except for the fact that he killed Ulquiorra...)

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I've been experiencing some major writer's block as well as student block (same as writer's block, only with school work related to my college). Please, don't hate me for that, and please enjoy!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 9

-Orihime-

The cell was almost exactly like the one back in Hueco Mundo. It figures, I thought to myself, standing from my chair to pace. I am able to escape from one prison to be thrown into another. Ichigo won't even look at me, and everyone else doesn't understand. Before long, I stopped, standing in front of the cell bars, my hands reaching out to grasp them. I thought I had heard something besides my Arrancar shoes.

I heard it again, and I placed my ear closer to the sound, pressing my body against the bars in hopes of hearing more. The noise had started to escalate to a ruckus just beyond my door. I could hear shouting, and my heart leapt in hope. However, it was Uryu's voice that I heard shrieking at the guard. He had followed me.

"What do you mean she's been locked up? She is not a traitor!"

"That has yet to be seen, Quincy, now please return to your quarters before you do something that you'll regret." I could barely hear his voice when he spoke.

"Can I at least see her? I just want to talk with her before returning." The guard huffed at Uryu, but moments later, the door had opened and Uryu was allowed inside. He sat down in the chair that was in front of the cell as I moved a little back from the bars.

"You shouldn't be in there." His voice sounded angry, and I shook my head, knowing deep down, I deserved to be here. I had thought about it, and Ichigo noticed what I had been contemplating over the short hour I had spent in this cell.

"I think I do, Uryu," I whispered softly. Uryu stood up with fury I had never seen him have.

"Love should not damn a person!" I flinched, stepping back only to trip into my own chair. Luckily, I managed to right my weight on it so I would not fall over. "I know why you went with him, and I know why you think you should be imprisoned." Uryu approached the prison bars. "Orihime, you saved us by leaving and we left to save you."

"Uryu, I can't tell you what happened. None of you would look at me the same way. I've already lost Ichigo due to this whole thing." Uryu sighed, closing his eyes.

"Orihime, you won't lose us." Uryu kept his face calm, his voice even, but I still couldn't forget how easily Ichigo had hated me for my decision.

"How do you know?" I countered. "Ichigo would have never turned on me had he not heard what he heard and saw what he saw." Uryu opened his eyes to look at me, burning me with a stare that spoke to me, that begged me to let him know what happened, and his words just reiterated what his eyes already said.

"And what did he hear and see?" I shook my head pitifully. I couldn't tell him what it was. I couldn't say that I had been—had fallen in love with—what difference did it make anyway? I was still tainted with the touch of an Espada, even though the two who had touched me were dead.

"Just go, Uryu. I won't be here too long." My dead voice startled him, and he insisted on pressing his face into the cell bars separating us.

"You have to let someone in," he whispered earnestly. I gave him a long look, studying his features, but I shook my head. I couldn't, and I wouldn't. Not now, not while everything was so vivid.

"The last time I did that, they died on me."

"What do you—" He was interrupted by the entrance of the guard.

"All right, Uryu, the captain's back, and you need to go."Before Uryu could put up a proper fight, the guard had strong-armed him, locking my friend to his side. Uryu looked over his shoulder with an immensely confused look on his face, yearning for an answer I refused to give as he was ushered from the building.

Captain Hitsugaya entered the prison almost as soon as Uryu had been removed from the building. I figured he had something to say about when I would speak with the Captain Yamamoto. As I looked at him, he appeared a bit apathetic now that I was behind bars. I shuddered at the common phrase. It applied to me, and I was no longer the good girl that I seemed to be to everyone. I was no longer innocent. My heart constricted painfully at that.

"The Head Captain will speak with you in three days time. He told me that it was imperative for you to think over what happened in Hueco Mundo, and to divulge any information that you learned while being under Aizen's care." Hitsugaya's voice revealed that he wasn't at all pleased that he was playing messenger boy. In an undertone, his cold demeanor melted, giving way to the slightly carefree boy he was back in my home. "I shouldn't tell you this, but the trial is public, and because of it being so you'll be cleared of all charges as long as you comply with the Head Captain. He's got a soft spot for you, Ichigo, and the others."

I was completely nonplussed by this fact, but I protested with the captain of Squad Ten. "I can't—I have nothing of relevance to offer. Aizen portrayed me as a god! Only certain people were in contact with me." The boy-captain looked at her with his cold turquoise eyes.

"Then you will tell him what happened during your stay in Hueco Mundo. Otherwise, you'll suffer the fate that Rukia almost had." He turned on his heel and left me gaping like a fish out of water.

Everyone would be at the hearing. Everyone would know _everything_. I wasn't ready. How would I ever convince my heart to be ready to peel the bandage from such fresh wounds?

-Ulquiorra-

Nothing hurt anymore. This revelation was what he first noticed upon waking in the early hours of the day. However, the second was less pleasant. A black cat shrouded his vision, staring deeply into his eyes, as if trying to read his soul. The cat did not seem to be just a cat. It eased away from him, not at all shy from being caught, but giving him room. It was odd, in all of his time knowing cats, none of them knew the concept of personal space if they so chose to invade an individual's.

Urahara slid open the door, and the cat gave the store owner a pointed look before turning tail and leaving the room. The store owner was unfazed by the strange behavior of his cat, and he proceeded to speak to Ulquiorra.

"How are you feeling?" His perceptive gaze swept Ulquiorra from head to toe as he sat down near the futon, just not as close as the cat had been. To be polite, Ulquiorra gingerly pulled himself into a sitting position.

"I am sufficiently healed." His voice was still as cool and even as ever, but now he felt like he had a newfound dedication to his aloofness and emotionless visage. Urahara's seemingly unending smile faltered immediately, but just as quickly recovered.

"Wonderful," he expressed with too much exuberance. "Now we can determine your payment method." The smile in his voice clearly represented, in many social schemas suggest, that he was only jesting with Ulquiorra. However, Ulquiorra felt something he shouldn't have. The guilt told him it would not be right to impose on such a gracious host without giving something back in return.

"Very well, but I have no money," he recounted only to have Urahara laugh at his sincerity. The man was too carefree for a Japanese person in his personal opinion.

"Oh no, good man, I was only joking with you. In fact, you're free to go, seeing as you've healed well." Ulquiorra could do no such thing.

"It would be my honor to serve you until my debt is repaid." Ulquiorra was the closest to begging he'd ever been since childhood. His eyes must have reflected it as well because Urahara laughed again.

"Well, since you are so insistent, you can start after we've eaten breakfast. Tessai cooked us a Western meal today!" Urahara leapt to his feet and pranced out of the door. Ulquiorra vaguely made out the "Please join us" that had been called a second later.

Ulquiorra slowly got to his feet, testing his weight on each foot before being satisfied that he was all right. He reached for the ceiling, hearing his back pop from the standard action. It felt good, though. He didn't feel any pain. His head didn't even feel tender.

When he entered the dining room, there was a large array of foods displayed on the tiny circular table. The girl had eggs on her plate along with several biscuits, while the boy had eggs, sausage, and bacon—opting for a meat-only breakfast. The big man sat next to Urahara, his plate filled evenly with each food group: eggs and bacon, strawberries, a biscuit with gravy, and _celery_. Ulquiorra was not particularly fond of that vegetable. Urahara had only begun to pile his food onto a plate.

"Dig in! It's delicious!" The boy said between mouthfuls of his own food. Ulquiorra sat down calmly, taking just enough to suffice as a breakfast. He had never cared for eggs before, but he ate them anyway. He would not be rude and refuse a meal. The sausage and bacon were good, but he ignored the bread serving. Biscuits were another thing he wasn't fond of; however, strawberries were. He especially enjoyed them with the champagne his mother had brought home one evening. It was their little secret he had drunk while underage.

The meal indeed was delicious, and he felt like he would burst by the time he had finished his last strawberry. Urahara was merciless, though. He quickly stated, "All right! Ulquiorra, you are washing the dishes with Ururu." The ones not charged with cleaning duty seemed to magically disappear from the table by how fast they moved from their seats. Ururu gathered all of the plates into her little arms, but he refused to let the girl carry it all by herself.

"Here, let me help you," he said stiffly. He was not accustomed to children after all. She blushed and looked up at him.

"It's all right Mr. Cifer," she said politely, walking with ease under the weight of the plates. Not one wobbled as he followed her into the kitchen. He could not believe that she was able to carry all of the dirty dishes by herself, and yet she was able to. He hated that shock seemed to becoming the norm for him in this…house.

The girl did allow him to wash the dishes. "A woman's hands should never prune before the age that it is appropriate," he told her, turning her simple blush into a furious stain. She nodded meekly, not speaking all the while she dried each plate, pot, pan, glass, and silverware. The task was completed quickly with both working with steady hands.

Ururu then showed him where to put all of the dishes once they had finished, because doing the dishes didn't mean just washing and drying, it meant putting everything in its correct place. It reminded him of when he did laundry for his mother. She chastised him because doing laundry was not just throwing clothes into the washer and dryer; it was folding and putting them away, as well. The plates belonged in the cabinet on the left of the sink, whereas the glasses belonged in the adjacent cupboard. Silverware went inside a drawer below the glasses respective place. The pots and pans went inside a Lazy Susan cabinet near the stove.

Urahara strolled into the kitchen then, smiling at Ururu. "I see you two get along well. I'm sure you're a better work partner than Jinta, I'm afraid." Ururu giggled.

"He actually helps rather than goofing off. I'm surprised Mr. Tessai hasn't punished Jinta yet." Urahara laughed appreciatively and sent her on her way. He then turned to look at Ulquiorra.

"You know, we've got a lot more stuff around here that needs to be done, and I just don't think we can handle the workload we're about to attain. If it's not an inconvenience to you, I'd enjoy for you to stay here while we sorted it all out." Ulquiorra was taken aback. Staying here would mean he could work off his debt faster. It was a good thing, not to be in someone's debt. He knew that; therefore, the offer was not one he could refuse.

* * *

_**TBC...**_


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, if I did, Ulquiorra would be alive!

A/N: Apologies on the _very_ late chapter. I had to study hard for my finals this semester; therefore, I wasn't able to write as often as I wanted. Thank you everyone for the reviews, enjoy the chapter!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 10

-Orihime-

I woke up, and I wished I was still in Hueco Mundo. Not here, not about to confess all of my transgressions. I could not dare to hope for mercy from my friends. After today, I would no longer have them. I could only be thankful for having Chad for as long as they intended to keep their mouths shut.

"Let's go," the guard said, unlocking the cell and allowing me to exit. If I had the ability, I would have escaped, but I could do nothing. I couldn't escape the Soul Society without help from a soul reaper, and no one would do me a service now.

They did not shackle my hands like I had seen in medieval movies, but all of Squad Ten lead me and followed me to where the hearing was taking place. Ironically, they decided Sōkyoku Hill, which I was assuming because they would kill me if I did not comply with all of my confessions. It didn't matter if I didn't answer, I was damned either way.

"You will answer the Head Captain's questions clearly." Captain Hitsugaya said coldly as we marched together. "If you do not, one of the captain's—I believe Suì-Fēng—will be asked to cut you down." In a softer tone he added, "Please, don't give them reason to harm you. I know how Rangiku feels about you; you are much like her little sister that she lost a very long time ago." This was news to me. I had no idea Rangiku had had a sister.

"How long ago was that?" I asked, unable to stop my loudmouth. At the base of Sōkyoku Hill, Toshiro turned his white head and looked at me with penetrating eyes.

"Before I was born," he stated with finality. However, before he turned to continue marching with the rest of the group, I saw the longing and hurt I had felt for _him_. A cool, wet tear slid down my cheek as I ascended to the top where my death—social or actual—would take place.

As expected, everyone was present. Whether they were for me or against me, it did not matter. They would all be against me in a matter of moments, if I spoke the truth, if I had the courage to say everything. I was brought before the Head Captain Yamamoto, and I kneeled respectfully.

"Orihime Inoue, you are here due to the treasonous acts that brought you to Hueco Mundo. We must know what has happened in order for us to pass judgment. If you do not comply with this simple request, you will have made your decision to be judged with a ruling of death."

"No!" Of course, Uryu would not want me to die. We are survivors of love after all. Ichigo's love—whether or not he realized it—always managed to make it through, despite how battered she got while almost dying. Rukia always remained alive. Neither spoke against the Head Captain though.

"Quincy, I understand that she is your friend, but you must be silent." Suì-Fēng's voice called out from Yamamoto's right hand. "Take an example from our Substitute Soul Reaper."

"I have nothing left to say to her," Ichigo's voice called out, coldly, as if I had become his battling opponent. I swallowed hard; however, the lump in my throat remained. I could feel my hands sweating, and tears welling in my eyes. Then I remembered who I would not lose after all of this. I still had Tatsuki. My heart hurt, but I knew if I could explain everything to her, Tatsuki would still love me after all of this.

"I have made my decision," I whispered shakily. Captain Yamamoto looked at me expectantly. "I will tell you what happened, but none of you may enjoy what you learn!" I shouted, feeling anger. I even turned from the one I was supposed to be telling my story in order to preach what went on in Hueco Mundo.

"I was given twelve hours by Ulquiorra Cifer to get all of my affairs in order. I was allowed to say goodbye to one person, too bad the one person no longer cares to even look at me. But I suppose he's justified. I'm tainted now. No longer pure and innocent, but it was not by my will. Grimmjow, the Sixth Espada, the one whom Ichigo defeated, had stolen my one precious gift. And the reason why Ichigo shuns me so, and Uryu looks at me with empathetic eyes, is because I, too, lost a love in the fires of war. The same Espada who had kidnapped me had become my savoir!" The words had a moving effect on the individuals in the crowd, but I wasn't finished.

"Ulquiorra was getting his humanity back, I know he was… Please, when I went to Hueco Mundo, I did not plan on loving the enemy. I did it because I loved you all too much to want you to die for me. I did it so no one would suffer."

It was not as dramatic as I thought it would be. The aftermath always played out as a mob coming after me, their swords drawn, and all too willing to behead me. This was not the aftermath I pictured as I looked upon everyone. Rangiku burst forth from the crowd to embrace me. She was whispering words of comfort, wishing that I—exposed to the real world as I was—had not had to suffer being unwillingly under a man as well. Rukia even broke from Ichigo to hug me once Rangiku had let go, and to thank me for healing her.

When Rukia had returned to her previous spot, the Head Captain spoke again. "Orihime Inoue, seeing as the enemy you fell in love with has been killed—"

"Not without her trying to bring him back," Ichigo muttered.

"Twice I've saved you from Ulquiorra! If I hadn't been there the second time, Ulquiorra would've killed you like he did before!" Shock at myself caused me to clap my hands over my mouth.

"Is this true, Ichigo?" It wasn't the head captain who spoke, but Suì-Fēng.

"Which part?"

"Both parts—were you defeated twice, and both times saved by Miss Inoue?"

"I was, but that was before I knew she loved the guy!"

"It's shocking you even realized that when she tried to heal him, seeing as she was in love with you before she had been kidnapped!" Uryu's angered voice shot out. That had Ichigo stumbling over himself.

"Wha—what do you mean Uryu? She wasn't in love with me." He tried to sound casual, tried to scoff at it, but I confirmed Uryu's statement for myself. I was confessing everything today, anyway.

"I did love you, Ichigo, but when I went to say goodbye to you, I couldn't bring myself to kiss you goodbye. You love Rukia too much to ever love me, and I suppose my subconscious was trying to tell me that. I left you to wait for Ulquiorra, not knowing that I'd fall in love with someone so opposite you." Ichigo was prevented from speaking as Captain Yamamoto broke in, slightly outraged at the interruption.

"Regardless," he shouted, "that you attempted to revive the fallen enemy, you are no perceived threat, as your actions did not succeed. You will be under close watch while here in the Soul Society, but otherwise, you are free to go." Just as Captain Hitsugaya said I would be.

Everyone began to make their way off of the hill, Suì-Fēng travelling right behind the Head Captain. Several other captains followed quickly behind as well. Captain Kuchiki had pulled Rukia to his side as was speaking to her while they shuffled in the throng of people leaving the hilltop. I saw Ichigo give me a look, half-longing, half-hatred, before leaving with the mass that had gathered. Captain Hitsugaya, Rangiku, and Uryu were the only ones remaining with me.

Uryu stepped forward, having not moved from his spot once during my speech. His eyes were shocked, as though he was still trying to grasp that what had happened. "You were…and…he saved you?" I nodded.

"He never knew though. He thought I was there for Ichigo, which I sort of was, but then I protected Ichigo from one of his blows… I never was able to tell him because I was supposed to love Ichigo, not him. That's why, that's why…"

"Oh, honey, you're crying." Rangiku's mothering voice and arms embraced me once more that day.

-Ulquiorra-

Ulquiorra walked around the house—his temporary home. It was odd to think of it like that, considering he had only met these people by luck of fate. However, something was increasingly nagging at him. His subconscious manages to pick up and hold onto useless information, thusly causing his discomfort. For his time frame of a day being asleep, recouping, too much had changed. For instance, the wood flooring had been replaced in the dining and in the entrance hall.

Ururu, upon her own honor, took up to scrubbing the floor in the said entryway. Ulquiorra quickly asked his question to confirm the hypothesis that had been formulating as his head discovered the minutia of the house. She attempted twice to answer him while scrubbing intently on the floor, but she gave up, and stopped her efforts to reply.

"You noticed," she said happily. He nodded curtly, and she continued to speak. "I did it while you comatose." Her voice became blasé in saying this fact, like it was normal to her to have people lying in this house with injuries that could render them helpless for long periods of time. He decided to cast aside the thought for now, as it would do no good to dwell on something like that with this girl. Urahara was the one he'd have to ask if he wanted to know the particular reason behind her casual reference.

He decided to ask one more, curiosity taking over. "How long was I out?" Ururu did not hesitate in her response.

"Three days." Interesting, he thought, trying to mull over what had happened to him. He found himself blocked, however. He kept seeing nothing. It was almost as if his memories had been nonexistent from what led up to the injuries to when he awoke in front of the shop. His own mind had decided to blackball him, for whatever reason.

Pulling out of his reverie, he looked down at his working partner, still mopping at the floor. Her hands were red and looked raw from the exertion of stimulating such small hands to do such work.

"I'll finish up here Ururu; you go play or help Tessai with something else." She looked up at him with her sad eyes.

"But, I haven't finished here…" She replied shakily, unsure if it was all right. Ulquiorra felt his patience being tested by the child. However, he could empathize with the inability to know when a task was to be passed along to another. His mother never let him leave work unfinished. Homework always had to be completed before dinner, no later. If he had failed to complete the work, he did not eat until he had.

"I understand; I'll finish the work here. You run along and start something new. I'll catch up." His verbosity was beginning to get to him. He did not like having to speak too much, and for some reason, he knew someone understood that. The idea was scratching at the back of his mind, but no one he could name knew him that well. This thought unnerved him as well.

Still, the child in front of him caught his attention once more by obeying his wishes and scampering away. He picked up her abandoned rag and dunked it into a tub of cleaning solution that reminded him vaguely of the time he had surprised his mother. He had cleaned the kitchen, a duty she generally did after a meal, for her before she had gotten home. He had neglected homework, but smoothly lied that he managed to finish it all in class that day.

'Ulquiorra, my hero, you _are_ the man of the house!' She praised him, taking care not to step into the kitchen. They celebrated the cleaned house by her teaching him how to cook a Spanish dish she called Tortillas y Rellanos. He learned that rellanos were like tempura by the fact that that they were something that is deep fried, only the 'something' was green chilies stuffed with cheese. The tortillas were different, too. He and his mother had made one tortilla in a cake pan using potatoes, eggs, cheese, onions, and red peppers.

To be honest, Ulquiorra thought very little of how the dish would taste, not having known about the freezer full of Spanish cuisine she had flown in directly from Spain. Most of the ingredients were too foreign for him to even want to comprehend, but he ate it and surprised himself. It tasted as though his mother had been a professional chef back in Spain. It had exceeded his scope of what was good food. The variety of flavor astounded him, defeating all of the ramen, tempura, and every other of his Japanese favorites in taste.

He quickly returned himself to the present, working on scrubbing the remaining quarter of the floor that Ururu had missed in his demand she leave it to him. Now that the girl was gone, he was left to ponder who it was that understood him. He rang the wetted rag in the pail before using it to start mopping.

His mother knew that he didn't speak often because she had taught him. He ran the cloth over the hard surface, pushing away from himself to polish. He was never close to any of his teachers. He pulled the rag back to him, seeing his reflection in the wooden floor. He tried to remember as he continued this process, but getting nowhere.

Then he stopped, thinking about that dream he had earlier. The child that had grown into a woman before his very eyes had to be connected to this fact. Who was she though? Did he really know her when he was younger? It was possible; Karakura Town was a huge place to live in. He could have met her easily when he was little, but did they stay in contact? He thought about it, and shook his head mentally. No, they could not have known each other that well. I would have remembered her if she knew me like Mother.

He brushed off the irritating thoughts, and looked down at the shining flooring. Satisfied, he stood; taking the pail of watered down cleaning solution and began to carry it into the kitchen when a cascade of cause and effect happened.

Simultaneously, a woman stepped into the kitchen with a curious look on her face. Gray eyes looked around the kitchen in search of something, until they fell onto him. The clothes she had in her arms fell at the same time the bucket of Pine-Sol dropped, toppled, and spilled onto the recently cleaned kitchen floor. Something in her hair glinted, and her mouth began to form the words that brought everything back to him.

"Ulquiorra…you're alive."

* * *

_**TBC...**_


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Do not own. Please refer to the Tite Kubo section of the internet to find out why.  
**

**A/N: Many apologies for the lateness of the update. I have seriously been experiencing writer's block for this story. Hopefully, I'm cured for a while though.  
**

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 11

-Orihime-

I placed a hand to my face, feeling the wetness there after Rangiku's assessment. I laughed shakily, remarking, "Oh, you're right." Rangiku was kind enough to hold me until the moment I was having subsided, which didn't take as long as I thought it would. Uryu addressed me once my composure had been regained.

"What will you do now—stay?" He asked inquiring to know what my next move would be. I shook my head.

"I can't, you heard Head Captain Yamamoto." Uryu looked at me questioningly, as if trying to say 'You could stay though'. "Every move I make will be watched, I will make better progress if I go back and talk with Tatsuki and Chad…and Mr. Urahara now that I think about it." Captain Hitsugaya agreed.

"It would be ideal for you to leave sooner than later," commented the ice-wielding captain. Briefly, I thought I caught a smile pass between him and Rangiku, before he returned to me, stating clearly, "I can have them ready the reishihenkanki for you immediately." I nodded, and his flash step carried him away from us on top of that fateful hill. Rangiku suggested that she carry me back to her quarters to change me out of my outfit into something of hers.

"After all, we have the same chest size." Her remark had Uryu spluttering.

"Don't say such things when you're around me!" I was blushing, knowing it had to be true, seeing as I looked much like her when I didn't have a bra to support me. Rangiku continued to tease him as we ran towards Squad Ten's barracks.

"Oh, Uryu, you've touched them before—you must have ladies lining up for you in Karakura." Uryu couldn't reply I noticed. I watched as he opened his mouth, shut it, and continued to gape like a fish out of water at the notion Rangiku presented. He finally came up with one reply that stopped the teasing.

"I'm no pervert." His blush colored his face long after the conversation, too, much to Rangiku's enjoyment.

She brought me into her room, tearing through her closet to find something a little more modest to accommodate my tastes in clothing. I sat down on the floor, waiting for her to finish her search. I hoped she would not present me with such a dangerous neckline that she usually wore. There was some banging and I heard her exclaim a few curses before the rummaging came to a halt. Withdrawing from the closet, Rangiku had pulled out a pleated azure colored skirt with a white turtleneck.

"I hope this will do," Rangiku hedged anticipating my reaction. In all honesty, this was exactly something that I would wear, while I highly doubted how this non-showy apparel managed to make its way into her closet.

"It's beautiful; I'll return it once we can see each other again," I gushed. She smiled brightly and excused herself so I could change in private. Sure enough, everything fit perfectly. The skirt must have been from when she was younger though, because I know Rangiku has more curves than I do. I also enjoyed the fact that the skirt matched the hairpins Sora had given me, my Shun Shun Rikka.

"I hope you're finished changing, Captain says that the gateway to Karakura Town is open." I hurried outside, holding onto the tattered remnants of my Hueco Mundo uniform. Rangiku looked at me in surprise.

"You're going to take them with you?" I nodded, silently lamenting that I had left his helmet over in Squad Four's area.

"It's my only reminder…I can't bear to go to Squad Four to ask them to return the headpiece of his." I felt my lips quivering, but I internally sucked it up. I couldn't keep crying over this. Sora didn't want me to grieve him forever, and Ulquiorra wouldn't want me to, either. Or…at least I hoped Ulquiorra would have known I'd grieve for him. My thoughts began to chase each other, wondering if Ulquiorra understood that I cared about him.

"Orihime, you need to go now. The reishihenkanki won't last too much longer. It will take you right into Urahara's shop." I snapped my attention to Captain Hitsugaya and nodded curtly. He guided me with one last hug from Rangiku and a quick goodbye from Uryu to my portal back home.

"I'll see you soon, ok?" I said, as I waved goodbye to them all and began my long walk in the dark corridor between the Soul Society and Karakura Town.

I wandered through the straight pathway, thinking about the time I had traveled with two others. Ulquiorra appeared, threatening me with the death of my friends if I did not obey. I could not tell him no, and I probably still couldn't. I sort of hoped the déjà vu I was feeling would become real again. Anything could happen so long as it meant he was still alive. However, I stepped into the hallway just outside of the kitchen in Urahara's place without any interruptions.

I thought I heard movement in the kitchen so I stepped into the room, hoping to find Urahara or Ururu in there. No one was there, until I caught someone in my periphery. My eyes darted to look at the one I had perceived in the room. My breath caught in my throat, and the uniform dropped out of my arms.

His black hair glistened in the overhead light in the kitchen. It looked soft, and it fell onto his lean shoulder casually. His face wasn't the stark white, but it still remained in pallor compared to my skin. His green eyes remained the same, despite the disappearance of the tear lines. They were still sharp and calculating, and they were looking at me like he had just realized something vaster than me standing here in Urahara's kitchen.

I couldn't stop myself from speaking. "Ulquiorra…you're alive."

-Ulquiorra-

He did not understand. His head was roiling with the influx of information. It was all there, replaying everything. He watched the events that lead up to his death. He had answered his cell phone to hear that T University—the only university worth anything in his opinion—was rejecting his application on the grounds that he was not 'well-rounded' enough to be accepted. It was news to him; his GPA was spotless and he had summer jobs to prove that he could work well with others. He had even gotten sparkling recommendation letters from several of his prep school professors.

It was raining by the time he reached his car, launching himself into the driver's seat, he broke every rule that he had followed while driving. The radio station that he never listened to was blaring heavy music to drown out the sheets of rain pouring onto his car. His foot felt like lead against the accelerator, pressing it down into the floorboard. He didn't see the huge puddle of water, and he braked instead of easing off the gas and turning into the skid. He hydroplaned into a concrete wall, killing himself instantly.

He wondered the city for many days, until his soul chain finally ate a hole through his chest. He had been watching the man he knew to be his father. His hollow self devoured the man who made him a bastard, releasing some of his aggression. However, he was still hungry. He still needed more. Ulquiorra remembered with horror when he broke into his and his mother's apartment, and she was no match against him. Her soul fed him, but did not satiate him. Hunger befell him like no other, and he allowed himself to disappear into Hueco Mundo, the world of the hollows.

Here, he was able to feast without remorse. He knew these people not, and it let him fill his hunger. Yet, the yearning for more would remain. Nothing would be able to fill the void that had burned through his heart. Ulquiorra viewed his memories with fascination, in awe of how powerful he became in so short of time. He had been considered the leader of the hollows, Starrk allowing him to have the title because his loneliness prevented him from being able to lead anyone. However, he had no emotion to get in his way, and when Aizen arrived; Ulquiorra became the ex-Soul Reaper's confidant.

It all changed when he was told to retrieve the woman standing before him. During his musings, she had leapt forward, even though the floor was soaked with mopping solution. Her arms were wrapped around him tightly, and he was reminded of the tears she had cried when she witnessed his second death. Now, she was crying as she held him to her.

He did not understand, and he did not know what was expected of him. He had comforted her before, when he was a hollow, but he was human now, wasn't he? He had never touched a woman while he was human. Would it be the same if he held her the way he did in the world of the hollows?

"Woman, why are you embracing me?" It was the only thing he could say to her. It was the only thing he could think to do. She knew him as a cold person before, and this was the best way to deal with the alien feelings occurring in his reformed heart and in his head. She pulled away from him, finding his eyes as she wiped her own.

"Did I really save you?" She looked ecstatic to see him. Her gray eyes were smiling even though tears filled them.

"I haven't an idea." His statement did not deter her from trying to involve him in the discussion of what could have happened. He chose not to hear her, watching her lips moving as she babbled on about something that had occurred to her before finding him here. As he was deeming her to be a nuisance, another memory was triggered.

When he was younger, he was on the playground with a girl with red hair. She explained earlier she had to have it cut so the boys at her school wouldn't pull it during class. He sympathized with her, telling her that his mother often punished him for standing out during class. He explained that he already understood how to multiply and divide.

"_Wow,"_ she exclaimed, dragging the word out for three syllables. _"You're so cool! I'm having a terrible time with adding fractions."_ She looked down-trodden at this. He thought that he would compliment her to make her smile. For some reason, he felt like smiling when she did.

"_I like your hair pins,"_ he stated, not sure how to compliment a girl besides his mother.

"_Thank you! My brother gave them to me as a gift…"_ she trailed off, not finishing her statement. Her smile went away again, and he blurted in a fluster,

"_Will you be my friend?"_ He blushed, never once asking anyone to be that to him. She looked at him questioningly before smiling and nodding. Then, her grandmother called her to leave the playground, and he never saw her again.

This woman was that girl, and it took him until now to realize who she was.

"Do you remember the playground?" He asked her, and she blinked in surprise. To her, this question was out of the blue and made no sense with their conversation. However, he didn't care. He wanted to know if she could remember that far back into her past.

"What do you mean?" She asked nonplussed. It was an automatic reaction to respond, and when the words sank in, she quieted, giving thought to those words. He watched her surreptitiously, looking for any sign of her recollection of such a minor event. Only, Urahara's presence prevented her from answering yet another one of his questions.

"Oh, Orihime, it seems you've found our guest!" He said with obvious strain. Orihime turned to him, smiling and giggling at his reaction. Silly girl must think I was some surprise for her; he scoffed inwardly at how young this woman was despite how mature she seemed in Hueco Mundo.

"Allow me to introduce the two of you," Urahara began, attempting to keep his air of calm and casual. Ulquiorra shook his head though.

"I already know this woman, and I would prefer to get back to paying my debt." He caught the nervousness that flashed across her face as tension rose in the room. Urahara noticed it as well, and asserted it immediately.

"Indeed you are," he stated with a coolness that hadn't existed prior to this moment. "You can start here in the kitchen, as it is sopping wet. Orihime, you and I have some matters to discuss." He motioned for her to come with him, but her gaze was on him, longing to say or do something.

"Uh, right," she agreed belatedly, and she followed the shopkeeper with her eyes not leaving Ulquiorra's until she rounded the corner.

* * *

**_TBC..._**


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Don't own.

EDIT!A/N: Sorry everyone who's just now reading this story. I went through the other night and fixed some of the breaks that were supposed to happen during the story. I apologize for any inconvenience impacted by this. I love you all!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 12

-Orihime-

Without preamble from the amicable man, he commanded, "Sit down." They were inside a study of sorts in his home, perhaps it was his bedroom and the bed had been folded away to make it look presentable for business to be conducted. Either way, I did as he said. I could just barely make out his eyes from underneath his hat, and I was shocked by the emotions flitting across them. Was I more attuned to emotion being in the company of someone without them for so long? It was a valid query to ask oneself, especially after being through what I had.

"I understand the predicament that you landed yourself in. In turn, I must also take responsibility for this because Yoruichi and I were the ones who helped you manifest your special talents." I listened; I knew I would be lectured at some point for the behavior, and he was who I expected to chastise me. "However, I do not understand—as I am updated frequently by Yoruichi—how this…I don't even know what to call a human that has been brought back to live a second life." I knew this was a rhetorical question, but I mentally thought he could call Ulquiorra Ichigo or Chad or any of the others I had brought back from being dead.

"It's a miracle he came back _human_, to be perfectly honest with you, and lucky that he manifested in front of my shop. Although, I do have to say, if he had returned to Hueco Mundo I am most certain that he would have kept his hollow powers, and remained an Espada. You'd be dead, too." I nodded soberly, knowing how close I had come to that fate.

"I would've been killed if I didn't tell them what happened," I muttered bitterly.

"That's why I've pulled you aside, because seeing _you_ triggered his memory to return. What happened in Hueco Mundo?" I blanched at him, my eyes wide.

"Didn't…didn't Ms. Yoruichi tell you?" I would be here for hours recounting and recounting events and details I was ready to forget, and some that I'd rather not share at all. Urahara looked at me, choosing his words carefully as he spoke.

"I have a version of it, yes, but I want to hear it all. What you couldn't tell the Soul Society, I want to know all of it." I audibly swallowed. I felt chills. Urahara looked almost manic to have the blanks filled.

"I—I can't," I whispered. I couldn't recount it. The way Ichigo looked at me for my tears, the harsh words he said as I tried to save the one he had slaughtered. Urahara crooned at me.

"Now, you and I know you are strong. You trained all that time with Rukia and achieved some of the strength you were hoping for. Now tell me, why did you save an enemy strong enough to kill you?" I buried my face in my hands. I felt like I was on trial again, and I was _scared_ of Urahara. "Tell me, Orihime, why did you bring him back to life if you knew he would just kill Ichigo and the others when he did?" Those words were compelling, like sirens calling to their sailor victims.

"I couldn't let it end that way…not when he had found what made him hollow." Urahara was sharp enough to understand and connect the vague dots.

"You fell in love with him." I nodded while my hands still covered my face. I didn't want to confront the truth. I had betrayed my friends by saving someone who could be a potential threat to them. "Orihime, I want you to know something. I've had Ulquiorra here since three days ago, but I didn't think it would benefit the Soul Society to know that a human was under my roof. I'll give you three more days to think through a possible action you can take to erase your mistake, if you so choose."

I looked up at him, shocked that there was some way to rectify what I had done. "What is it?" I asked with an almost crazed desperation. Maybe I could regain the trust of my friends. His words made me go cold, however.

"You can turn him over to the Soul Society." I looked at Urahara like he had certainly lost his mind.

"I can't do that!" I shouted, and upon realizing that I was shouting, I lowered my voice. "I can't go giving life, then rescinding the gift. I'm not God." I stood up then, feeling angry. "And I don't appreciate being called upon _again_ to act as such." The idea was absurd, but as I walked away from the study-bedroom, I began to wonder what would happen if I did give Ulquiorra over. I blocked out the multiple images of how he could be killed, and I knew refusing Urahara's offer had to be the right one.

-Ulquiorra-

It would have been a crime, in his mother's eyes if she had caught him doing what he was doing now. He was in no way paying attention to dusting the paper door as he listened in on the conversation happening behind it. Each word that Urahara said bothered him slightly, but he was thankful for the eccentric man's generosity. Then he heard her tears as she spoke softly. The words were new to him, hearing her speak about him finding his heart. But when the word 'love' fell from Urahara, he felt his ears desperately trying to hear the silent affirmation or denouncement of his words. However, he heard nothing as Urahara continued with the threat.

"I'll give you three more days to think through a possible action you can take to erase your mistake—" His grip on the duster slackened, and it fell almost fell to the floor had he not quickly snatched it in mid-fall. His eyes widened. His reflexes hadn't been that fast when he was human. He narrowed his eyes at the paper separating him from the woman as he heard her ask what Urahara meant.

"You can turn him over to the Soul Society." His human heart beat faster as flashes of the soul reapers filled his mind. If he had retained his hollow powers, he would still be unable to defeat them all. They outnumbered him too greatly. He heard a voice inside his head, "Leave." It told him. The urge to obey the voice was overpowering. The word provoked him to drop the duster and begin walking towards the exit. As he did so, he passed Ururu in the hall.

"Mr. Ulquiorra," she called to him, but whatever was moving him told him she was of no importance. He continued by her, ignoring her as she failed to get his attention. He knew he would be walking for however long it took for him to distance himself from the shop and his possible demise.

He eventually broke into a run, the voice becoming more insistent. He could almost feel it pulling him forward by his neck as he ran. The air stung his face, but he could not stop. It was compulsory to obey the wishes of the voice. However, the voice allowed him to come to a halt after an hour had passed. Somehow, he wasn't winded. He stood there without too much of a reaction to this fact. He had been accustomed once to almost _flying_ while he ran. Instead, he waited to hear if the voice would speak again. There was only silence.

He vaguely recalled the voice that spoke to him, trying to remember the person. Ulquiorra gave up though; it wasn't important. What was important was figuring out where he was, and returning. He was not a coward, and he would face whatever consequence his savoir deemed necessary. She was the one that pulled him from the void that was consuming him, and she would be the one to decide if she would resend the gift she had given.

He looked around him, noting the food stand signs and the tourists gathering around him. What caught his eye next were the buildings that encroached on the poor marketers. He decided to venture forth from the slightly enclosed area, only to be buffeted by pedestrians littering the streets. He had a vague thought of the hollows, the Menos to be exact, gathered like cockroaches in the dark.

His mind carefully pieced together where he was the minute he noticed the piece of architecture where his father had worked, and a twisted smile played across his mouth as he remembered eating him. His heart raced at the thought, quickly stifling the emotional action his countenance decided to show. He was turning to his hollow self, and he needed to get back to what made him human.

Though the worry did not appear in his face, he could feel it radiating through his entire body. It was unsettling, knowing that she held such a power over him. He did not enjoy that she seemed to keep him rooted to the human world, with human tendencies, rather than that of a hollow. A woman should not have this kind of influence over a man, he thought with disdain as he pushed through throngs of people, ignoring their complaints as he did so.

* * *

It was dark by the time he returned to Urahara's shop. He did not know the protocol of how he should enter the place. As if he lived there? No, he decided to ring the bell that was hanging just to the right of the door. It slid open immediately, Ururu the prompt one.

"He's back, oh Mr. Ulquiorra, I'm glad you're back!" She cried with childish pleasure. He didn't make a face at it, and he wasn't inclined to make a comment on the crush she seemed to be developing. He nodded politely with a stoic expression on his face before entering the house. He spoke in low tones to the girl, "Where is Urahara?" She smiled and quickly led him to the dining area.

Urahara sat there, but the girl was nowhere in the room. "She's gone to her home," he answered Ulquiorra before the question could be posed.

"Where is that?" He responded tersely, looking down on the shopkeeper. It wasn't out of disrespect for the man, but the words came from his need to find the one who brought him here. The shopkeeper stood, weighing his words carefully as he spoke.

"I am reminded of someone I met a while ago. He demanded something of the similar nature, and I gave it to him—for a price. What price are you willing to pay for this information? I truly hope your life because she means a great deal and many people here in this world and in the other, all of which are willing to fight for her." Urahara's voice had a hint of a threat, as if to say he would challenge Ulquiorra if he did not like his answer.

"You are foolish if you believe I seek her blood," Ulquiorra scoffed. He looked at the shopkeeper, knowing the truth to his words about the people willing to fight for the woman.

"Why would I be foolish to believe that? You are, as you know, an Espada, the _very_ Espada that kidnapped her." The tension was building in the room, and Ulquiorra vaguely noticed that the little girl had stepped out of the room.

"My life is hers, now. Now tell me, where is the woman?" Urahara pondered the words a moment before disclosing the whereabouts of her apartment. Ulquiorra turned to leave the room then, his only desire to locate her.

"She's worried about you. When she found you'd gone, I had to convince her not to go looking for you." Ulquiorra inclined his head to the shopkeeper, and stepped outside in the direction of her home.

Perhaps the sword Fate put over his head would not fall upon him tonight.

* * *

**_TBC..._**


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Tite Kubo, thank you for bringing back the Soul Reapers. Now I demand you bring back the Arrancar that makes Orihime happy.

A/N: Well, here's the next installment. I love the reviews everyone, thank you all for reading, reviewing, and loving this fanfiction!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 13

-Orihime-

I was just falling asleep as I heard the doorbell ring. I panicked. Not only was my house a mess, where I was sleeping was in the living room, on the couch, where millions of tissues seemed to be piled. I wasn't even presentable to public eye—and the hour! Who would be here at this hour? I gathered as many tissues as I could and hurried them into the kitchen's trashcan. The doorbell rang once more.

Sniffling, I flicked on the outside light and opened the door. While rubbing my eyes, I said, "What do you want? It's late."

"I was under the impression my presence would have been welcomed." I stopped rubbing my red eyes to look at the Espada. I hadn't expected him to be the one at my door. Floored, I didn't say a word to him. I just gaped. "I can leave, if I am not welcome." His suggestion made me fumble over myself.

"N-no! I—I mean, yes, you may come in." I stood to the side to allow him access into the apartment. He carefully stepped through the door, and I shut it behind him, locking it for the second time that night.

He looked awkward standing in the middle of my living room. I turned on the light, but he did not flinch at the sudden illumination. He just merely looked at me. I folded my arms across my chest. He appraised me momentarily, before his green eyes held mine.

"I will comply with your wishes." His words were stiff, cold. I stared at him, recalling the hopelessness that covered his face as his body disintegrated. He appeared human right now, but the Arrancar still lived on inside him.

"What do you mean you'll…comply?" I asked, a little confused by what he'd said.

"Why do you insist on being coy, at a moment like this?" He scoffed and turned his back on me. What on earth was he talking about? He didn't hear what Urahara had said earlier, did he? Maybe that's why he left, though, the little voice in her head piped. Maybe he did hear the conversation, and thought you'd turn him over.

Guilt washed over me. If he had heard, he must think I'm a monster, too, especially if he's under the impression I would give him up to the Soul Society to be murdered. He stood in front of me with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He was tense, I could tell just by looking at how rigid he stood.

"Ulquiorra," I started hesitantly, taking a step forward. "I wouldn't give up someone to be killed if I saved them." I wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, but I couldn't allow myself to do it. I had too many uncertainties floating around in my head. He did not turn around when he spoke.

"I am at your mercy, like you were once with me." My heart thumped painfully in my chest with those words. I remember the times he was so close to me. He had pinned me to the wall. He nearly raped me in his bed. I bit my lower lip, steeling myself as I reached out for him, knowing this would be my only chance to repair the tear in our tentative friendship.

He flinched when my fingers brushed his arm, but the tense muscles relaxed the longer my hand stayed connected to his shoulder. His hand came up to mine, lacing our fingers together. The intimate nature of the touch sent butterflies skittering around in my stomach. We stood there for a while, silent with the understood notion that something between us had formed.

I moved closer to him as I felt sleep luring me. My head rested in between his shoulder blades as my arm around his waist, and I smiled when I felt his free hand lay on top of mine. "You are indeed different," he murmured. I nuzzled my cheek against him, closing my eyes faintly. "You are the only woman I have thought of," he pressed, and I felt his body shift under my hands so that he would be facing me. The fluttering my stomach exploded.

He took one of my hands in his; his thumb tracing the inside of my palm. My breath caught in my throat. His eyes pierced mine, full of a hunger I had not seen in a while. I tamped down the fear that was clawing at me to scream for anyone to help; because he was the one I'd be calling to help me. I knew better than to think he would hurt me. He had protected me from so many things, even himself. His other hand cupped my jaw, cradling my head.

"You became the sun in my perpetual night." I leaned into his fingers, feeling my body gravitating towards him as he spoke. "Now, in the world of the living, you remain a blinding source of light, of hope." I recalled the Ulquiorra I had seen in the Soul Society, his laughing eyes…his freedom. I didn't know what to say, but I felt myself becoming shy with his words. The blush was hot on my cheeks, and I tucked my chin to my chest to move away from his touch. His hands immediately retracted, but I couldn't look at him. I was too embarrassed by his words.

"I am not pleasing you." He did not appear confused, but I could hear the question in his voice as he spoke. Stealing myself to face him, I couldn't meet his eyes. I was too flustered.

"N-no, I just—"

"You pulled away from me," he stated flatly. I cringed slightly, realizing he must not have understood why I had to turn away. I could feel the blush creeping down my neck as I scrambled to explain myself.

"I…what you said…it made me uncomfortable." He raised an eyebrow at me, and I hurriedly added, "It wasn't a 'bad' uncomfortable…you…give me butterflies," I mumbled, dropping my head to stare at my feet. I could see in my peripheries that my arms held the extent of my blush.

I saw his feet, but I had missed his hand reaching for my chin until I was looking into his vibrant green eyes. His face was inches from mine, and my tongue flicked over my lips reflexively. A look—so brief I wasn't sure I saw it—flashed across his features before he leaned closer to me. My stomach seemed to leap inside me, making me feel like I was shaking on the inside. I closed my eyes, feeling the flutter of his breath on my lips. My throat felt tight, and my body seemed immobilized.

-Ulquiorra-

She was standing motionless as he let himself get closer to her. He had always thought about this in his human life, but it had never come to fruition. He noticed, too, that his hollow life was more about carnal desires, though he rarely had given himself over to them. Now, however, fire seemed to burn through him at an alarming rate. Mentally, he braced himself for whatever reaction she might have because right now, he was human.

The softness of her lips was intoxicating as he enveloped them with his own. She came to life under him, pressing her body into his. Her breasts were flush against his chest, and he could even feel her heart beating, something the hollow he used to be never allowed himself to feel. Her arms wrapped around his waist, closing the infinitesimal space between them. He watched her eyes, how her eyebrows knitted together.

She held his attention. Undivided and rapt, he kept her in his arms. When their lips parted, he pressed his forehead against hers, feeling her flushed skin beneath his. The experience was not underwhelming, either. The same, soft lips that curved around his name spoke volumes to him in that kiss. That same body that defied him so many times in Hueco Mundo succumbed to him so easily. Perhaps if he hadn't regained his human identity he'd have laid her down that moment, ready to claim her for the world to know.

He rested her head against the hollow of his neck, enjoying the warmth of her. Did I feel this way before? His tried retracing his thoughts as an Espada while he was with her, but the memories were hazy. They hadn't been before, but then again, he hadn't specifically pinpointed her in his regained memories, save for the moments in their youth. It didn't really matter to him though because he felt this way now.

He knew he had to stay by her. In the back of his mind he knew he had to protect her, lest the lynch mob Urahara promised would not hear his side of the story if something did happen to her. There was no going back now. Whether she approved of the possessive avow or not, she was his.

"I would prefer to stay here with you," he stated simply. He could feel heat exuding onto his throat and her sputtered response made it all the more obvious where the warmth was coming from.

"I-I…um… Th-this is a b-bit forward…" He felt her move within his arms, and he released her. His eyes quickly ascertained the embarrassment that she felt, and he could tell by how she was avoiding his eyes that she was nervous.

_She was underneath him, her eyes wide with fright. He didn't care, something about her being obstinate made him _want_ her all the more. He had slashed away her clothes, and she had begun to cry. The words were broken and she repeated, "I'll be good."_

The hollow he was, the human he is, the memory was too much. He would never have known himself to be capable of something to that extent. He never imagined making a woman feel as vulnerable as she was at that moment. A pain shot through his chest, and he looked at her to see her eyes on him.

Her eyes, gray as a morning expecting rain, made the pain worsen and lessen at the same time. They were wide, watching him, and he felt something cool sliding down both sides of his face. Her face twisted with the agony he was feeling, and she ran over to the phone. Her fingers flew across the buttons, dialing someone's number.

"Urahara," she whispered. He could see her in the kitchen with the receiver up to her ear, but he didn't understand how he could hear her so well. It was like she was whispering into _his_ ears, not the shopkeeper's. "I'm sorry, but you're the only one who can help. Something's wrong, Ulquiorra…" He observed her biting her lip before she continued. He was on pins and needles, wanting to know what she saw, what she knew that he didn't.

"Yes, I don't know how…I thought…I thought…" The pain flared as if his insides were on fire, and her eyes would not leave him as she spoke. The flames ate at his bones, trying to penetrate through him. "Urahara, please hurry." She hung up right as he felt the intensity become almost unbearable. Ulquiorra grinded his teeth against the pain and clutched himself. He felt his knees give way as she turned around.

"Ulquiorra!" She cried, running to him. She dropped down her knees as well. What had ignited the fire? The blaze would surely destroy him, and this time, he would not come back. Unless…

"Ori…hime…" he choked, his throat dry as if he had not drank water in years. He could see at this distance she was crying. "Can you heal me?" He was shocked to see her shake her head. Her lips quivered a moment before she was able to speak.

"I can't…you're not hurt…you're…you're…" She sounded as if she was trying to speak underwater, but she was coherent enough for him. It did not soothe him either as twin lines of searing, white-hot pain drew down his shoulder blades. The moan of agony penetrated his lips, and he felt her hands on his face. Ulquiorra looked up to see her eyes too close to his, their noses touching slightly. They were watery, but she spoke as calmly as she could.

"Urahara will be here…he's…he'll know what to do." The palms of her hands were cold compared to the fire consuming the inside of his body. He had fevers before as a human, but none were in the same league as this attack on his body.

It seemed to be hours before a knock resounded over her whimpers of helplessness, and she recoiled from him when it did. He heard the locks turn and footsteps bounding inside. Soon, the eccentric shop owner who had offered to help the woman send him to immediate death back in the Soul Society was in front of him, squatted down to be eye-level with Ulquiorra.

"The whites of his eyes are black; he truly is…reverting." Urahara's voice was suspicious.

"He's in pain—can't you see?" The woman's cut through him with insistence. "He needs…I don't know…!" Urahara stood up and moved behind him where she was stationed.

"Orihime, I know this is…hurting you, but there's nothing we can do until the reiatsu has run its course through him." The woman made a sound to object, but Urahara continued, "I'll help you understand why my hands are tied, but I need you not to be huffy about this, all right?" A pause for her affirmation—he knew her too curious to turn his offer down. He listened, too, giving him something to focus on beyond the blinding heat scorching his insides.

"There are reasons why gigais—not true human flesh—are normal for Soul Reapers and the Vizards. You know why you cannot pass through the senkaimon safely. It is because your body is not made of reiatsu. Do you know why it is not common for Substitute Soul Reapers to exist?"

"It's against the law, right? That's why we came to the Soul Society in the first place, to rescue Rukia."

"Yes, but the reason it's illegal is because the original Soul Reaper relinquishes his or her reiatsu to the human, and if Ichigo hadn't had a father that used to belong to the Soul Reapers, he would have died. You see, supremely concentrated reiatsu—like in the senkaimon—can be disastrous to the human condition. It's acidic if it seeps into your body, and will tear through you until there is nothing left to burn."

"But…I thought that hollows used a different form of energy," her slightest interjection made him realize she was right. However, that didn't stop the excruciating heat from severing his optic nerves. He felt his body fall backwards, felt his lips agape, and he saw nothing but the blackness that welcomed him the first time he awoke in Hueco Mundo.

* * *

**_TBC..._**


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Tite Kubo...he owns these characters...I just torture them.

A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews. Thank you all for bearing with the late updates. Here's the next installment!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 14

-Orihime-

Though Urahara was here, explaining everything to me, I wasn't coming to terms with it. What he was suggesting was his spirit was _rejecting_ the human body, but hollows don't have spirits anymore. Then I heard the faintest whimper from the one who had started my involvement in this whole ordeal.

He was lying on his back, his knees tucked underneath him. He stared blankly up, his electric green eyes stark against the blackness around them. He had the same pallor he had when he was an Espada. His complexion had become void of color except for the two lines that started on his lower eyelids and stretched to his jaw. His obsidian hair had lengthened to extend past his shoulders; his bangs would have covered his eyes had he been sitting up.

All of that wasn't what alarmed me when I looked down at him. I could see his wings growing.

"Urahara…his wings," my voice didn't sound as urgent as I was hoping it would. I tugged on his sleeve, and he leaned into my line of sight, blocking Ulquiorra for a moment. When he pulled back, he turned me to look at him.

"I don't see them"—I cut across Urahara.

"But they're there! I know they are, his hair's longer and I know you have to see the markings on his face." Urahara patted my shoulder gently.

"I wasn't saying you were lying, Orihime. I'm telling you that I cannot see his transformation. I know how Shinji and the others became hollows because I was there the night it happened. I could see _that_ transformation, but it's different when reiatsu is involved. It's supposed to be barely detectable when someone has spiritual energy invade their body."

"Why can I see it then?" I heard the panic in my voice, but there was nothing I could do about it. Urahara sighed and shook his head.

"Maybe because you're the reason there is reiatsu pouring into his body, or maybe because you weren't the one who resurrected him." I looked at him askance before my eyes returned to the man lying on the floor. I could see the wings growing, elongating to reach their original length.

"What do you mean I'm not the one who resurrected him?" My voice did not sound like my own. I heard Urahara's sigh, but I refused to look away from the one I wanted to help.

"I mean to say that hollows do not have the same kind of energy that Soul Reapers possess. He has reiatsu—the energy of Soul Reapers—coursing through him. When the reiatsu has consumed him, he will need a gigai to contain the spiritual pressure he is bound to have. The fact that he has enough to cause this kind of effect on his human body means he will be as powerful as he has ever been, if not more so." My eyes widened, mind reeling at what implications this had.

"Does that mean he's going to be a Soul Reaper?"

"I don't know; I've never experienced this phenomenon myself. I've only read about it once in a book long forgotten in the Soul Society's library. It may and it may not be the same as hollowfication. It may only take just one thread to break and—"

"Urahara…" I started slowly, cutting him off, my memory almost painfully jogged by his recent ramblings. My mouth almost couldn't keep up with converting the too fast thoughts into words. I looked at Ulquiorra's motionless body, frightened for him, my chest tightening with the thought of him not surviving. "I tried healing him before…he had done something in Hueco Mundo to harm himself, and there was one strand inside him that I could not reject. Could…could the Hogyoku have brought…him back?" It was Urahara's turn to pause, and I let my eyes wander to him, still overwhelmed with what I was thinking.

He, too, appeared as shocked as I was. However, he pulled out his fan and started tapping his chin with it like he always did when he pondered something. It sprung open, startling me, but I was hopeful, believing he had to have come to some conclusion about this situation.

"Seeing as I made the Hogyoku," I leaned in, eager for an answer, "I am most assuredly not sure." His gay tone caused me to blink, and I pulled back, my expectations dropping. I sighed, remembering he had not had long to work with the Hogyoku before being forced to place it inside of Rukia. "Orihime," he said gently, putting his hand firmly on my shoulder. "Regardless of how he came back, you're not going to abandon him. I know this because you have never called me by name without an honorific before today. You must be worried for him."

"You're right," I said, moving to kneel and put his head in my lap. My fingers splayed in his hair, and I could feel the spiritual pressure building around him. "He's my friend now, too." I let the obsidian strands slip between my fingers, smooth as water, and I looked up at Urahara. He was shaking his head at me.

"'He's my friend now, too'?" He repeated my words. "You've never been so worried about someone that you've never called me 'Mr. Urahara'." I blushed, returning my gaze to Ulquiorra, and changed the subject.

"Will you be able to make a gigai for him when he's"—I searched for the proper term, but settled on the easiest, "awake?" Urahara laughed momentarily, not out of rudeness, but for my lack of experience with the Soul Society's jargon.

"I'll do my best to have it fashioned immediately for him, but I have no idea how long this is going to take." Always the gracious host, I pretty much offered him to my entire home as long as he cleaned up after himself. I earned another peal of laughter from the shopkeeper. I didn't move from Ulquiorra though. He had my concern back in Hueco Mundo, and now that he was here—no longer hollow, no longer human—I could not lie and say he no longer held my interest.

It didn't help matters that he and I seemed to be getting as close as we had been in Hueco Mundo. Although he kidnapped me, he protected me—as best he could. I leaned over him and pressed a kiss onto his forehead, a long one because I was fighting back the tears that came with the memory from that time.

-Ulquiorra-

He could feel her tears on his skin, but he could not move for the fire. It was a dull ache now, but it was still too painful to lift his head to press his lips against the woman he would claim as his. She was the only thing that he had maintained in his memory.

She was there, bargaining with him to spare the two men escorting her. She was there, vehemently refusing to eat. Her body disheveled and used. Her body as he pinned her down. Her hand striking his face in response to words meant to damage her ability to hope. Her hand as it reached out to grasp his as he disintegrated into dust.

Now she was above him, crying.

"Mr. Urahara… Are you almost finished?" Her voice was soft, a little broken as she recovered from the tears she had been shedding. The shopkeeper laughed.

"Orihime, you don't have to keep calling me that. You're grown-up enough to address me by my name."

"But…" She wanted to argue; however, Urahara would not hear of it.

"You may call me Urahara, you may call me Kisuke. Please don't insist on being a child anymore." She did not reply, taking in how he scolded her. "Yes, I think the gigai has been completed. I won't know until he's—as you put it—awake." He knew what was waiting for him to open his eyes, but he did not wish to do so just yet. He wanted to listen to the two talking as the pain dwindled out of his system.

He watched as images of past lives interrupted some of the menial chatter the woman presented to Urahara. Mostly questions of how the gigai would work for him, as he was no longer human and no longer hollow. He was a…Soul Reaper? It made no sense to him; he only recalled the white-hot burn that seared his insides to nothing. Reiatsu coursed through him, not the fuel of souls that failed to move on.

Then, his memories focused on their kiss. Her soft body against his, and he felt himself move slightly into the touch of the woman who cradled his head.

"Urahara," she started, almost excitedly. "He…moved." He felt her lifting him off of her knees and being lain down gently on the ground. Hair tickled his face then, and he knew she was leaning over him. He could feel her breath on his cheek, but he did not move. "Ulquiorra," she whispered tenderly to him. Whether she intended for it to happen or not, her lips brushed his skin as she said his name.

He opened his eyes then, green seeking gray through the mess of red hair. They found his, widening before slowly brimming with tears.

"Woman, do not cry." However, she was not able to stop the twin tears that dripped onto his face. He lifted a hand through the tresses that shielded them both, and pulled her down to his lips. He needed to feel that softness again as he lay there, weakened by the transformation his body had undergone. It was awkward for her, and he smiled briefly at her ineptitude.

The kiss was broken sooner than he'd have liked, but she was inexperienced and too embarrassed to show affection. Urahara acted as though he wasn't there, because he had his back turned on the two of them even as she began to help him sit up. She immediately started to gush about what Urahara had done for him, and attempted to explain what was going on.

"I know," he said once she paused for breath. She looked at him puzzled, her hands frozen in midair from talking with them. "I heard everything that you were saying earlier. You need not explain again."

"Oh," she replied, looking a little put out. Her hands lowered as her lower lip jutted out. Her attention then turned to Urahara, and he addressed her from over his shoulder.

"If you two are ready for his gigai…?" He spoke in uncertain tones, hesitating to turn around. Ulquiorra felt something inside of him purr with uninhibited delight; Urahara knew she was his.

"Yes," she piped up enthusiastically. "He's ready!" She smiled at him brightly, and he allowed the slightest of a grin to return her ecstatic gesture. Urahara turned around, cradling an almost invisible body suit in his arms.

"This may be a little uncomfortable, but once I get you properly measured, you won't notice a difference beyond your spiritual pressure being suppressed." Urahara was about to place the gigai on him when he paused. "You'll need to lie down, Ulquiorra," Urahara added, offering silently that the gigai was not meant to be put on like an article of clothing.

He did as told, and he felt a cool, slippery thing fall over his body, encasing him and conforming immediately to his skin. He felt it meld to his body, pressing against each contour of his skin, branching in and out of hair follicles. It felt like a film had been placed over his actual face until he blinked and the film slipped underneath his eyes, seamlessly covering them. He could feel his entire body attracted magnetically to this new body. In a matter of seconds, everything was as it should be; only now he was encased in a frame visible to humans.

He righted himself at once, feeling her touch on his arm as he did so. The touch felt less like her marking him with fingerprints with each passing second. Urahara appeared astounded; at least as far as Ulquiorra could tell with his face shrouded by the hat the shopkeeper continuously wore.

"Is it ok?" She asked him nervously. Her attentiveness did not go unnoticed because Urahara calmly stated,

"Orihime, give him a chance to breathe." She blushed and immediately retracted her hand from the layer that passed as his skin. Ulquiorra watched as she folded her hands on top of her thighs, sitting on her ankles, and watching the floor with rapt interest. He returned his attention to the creator of his façade.

"It is different, as though I have allowed myself to become imprisoned. However, each moment I remain in this…gigai…I feel as though it is the real body and my other is the soul that animates it." Urahara nodded, seemingly intrigued.

"You certainly did take to it without delay. I believed the gigai would reject you, as you are not a true Soul Reaper—and you would not be considered Vizard, either. But it seems I stand corrected." He smiled and looked down at the woman. Suddenly, her mouth opened wide as she yawned heavily.

"It appears you need rest, woman." She shook her head defiantly, turning to look at him. He could see the pout she was trying to form on her lips.

"No, I'm not ti-ti-tired," she spoke as another yawn interrupted her. Urahara laughed a bit to himself.

"I think that your gigai will undergo apoptosis should it find it's not properly attached, but should you experience a problem, you know where I am, good night."

"Good night, I am in your debt," Ulquiorra replied nodding his head to the shopkeeper, who waved his hand dismissively stating that the debt would be paid in time before disappearing out into the black night. Now, to get her to bed, he thought with some displeasure remembering her obstinacy.

He stood up and pulled her to her feet. She swayed almost instantly on the spot. "You need rest." His logic was overpowered by her nonsensical brain due to lack of sleep.

"So do you, but I…" she trailed off, blushing furiously. Ah, he thought, noticing the way she tugged at her purple nightshirt. For a moment, he saw himself relieving her body of both shirt and bunny covered pants. Yet, he knew that really wasn't what she was wanting, and what she needed was a bed.

He leaned forward, brushing a lock of her red hair behind her ear as he whispered huskily, "Come." She allowed him to take her into his arms and carry her up the stairs to her bedroom. He laid her down, and she instantly sat up.

"I'm not tired!" She shouted childishly. He snorted softly, seeing her indignation. As softly as he could, he shoved her closer to the wall so he could sit on the bed as well.

"I cannot force you to sleep. However, I know that is what my body needs, and I will not deny it." As he began to fall back onto the pillows, he saw how her face reddened with the idea of spending the night with him. "It is safe, Orihime Inoue. I will not hurt you."

Her foolish antics ceased, and she looked down at him. Slowly, she allowed herself to lie on her back next to him. He settled himself even further into her sheets, all around him her scent.

Before completely succumbing to the embrace her bed was giving him, he felt the weight on her side shift as she shyly rested her head against his chest.

* * *

_**TBC...**_


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Them...sadly

A/N: Thank you everyone who reviewed! Makes me happy to see that you all are happy (or curious about what's going to happen next). Thank you all for being patient. I hope to update soon after this (maybe in a week like I used to be able to!). But for now, please enjoy the next thrilling installment of this story my faithful readers/reviewers!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 15

-Orihime-

The sunlight streamed in through my open window, but that wasn't what woke me up. The pillow I had been using moved, and then I heard his heart beating. My eyes opened wider now, completely engrossed with hearing the sound again. I had heard many others. Ichigo's when he held me to his side, Rukia's when she was protecting me, and Sora's was a constant in my life until he died.

I didn't attempt to wake him. Something inside of me was unwilling to break this temporary moment of comfort. I wasn't sure if what happened yesterday was even real. I couldn't be positive that he would be the same Ulquiorra. I stiffened when a hand curled around my shoulder, cool fingers brushing the skin beneath them.

"You seem to be uncomfortable here," he stated, but he didn't move. He seemed to be waiting for an answer from me. I wasn't sure what to say, and only allowed my head to shift slightly right to left. "If you wish to leave, you may." His hand slowly slid down the upper part of my arm; his fingertips brushing my wrist in a way that made me blush. Then, the touch disappeared altogether.

I sat up gradually, looking at him. His gaze was lazy, apathetic to my movements. I wasn't sure what to make of it. Last night… I could still feel the residue of our kisses on my lips. My heart thudded against my chest painfully hard. I was reliving the swoon that befell me, when he caused it to rise anew. His body lifted languidly from the bed—my bed—barely supporting himself on the hand closest to me. The other reached to cup my cheek in the recess it had created. His green eyes captured mine as he breached the distance, and I wanted it, too.

He paused though, and I wasn't completely sure why. If I could have been bolder, I would have pressed my lips to his, but I watched as his eyes—once, focused on me—were on the door, as if he expected someone to come inside. I did reach my own hand to touch his face, hoping to return his attention to me. It worked and his eyes were back on me, but we did not kiss. His forehead pressed against mine, his nose along the left side of mine. He allowed his eyelids to shut.

"Forgive me," he whispered, and as I went to speak, I was on my back, staring up at him. My wrists were shackled by his powerful hands; my right palm face-up on the pillow while my left was restrained to my side. My heart leapt and my stomach turned in a way slowly becoming familiar when I was near him. My throat tightened and my breathing quickened.

His lips descended upon me, touching the crook of my neck. Without realizing it, I allowed my head to shift ever so slightly to the side to give him better access. All the while, I felt his hands move up my arms, massaging muscles that didn't realize they were tense. His right hand was first to reach my chest, and I felt the area near my navel give an anxious leap. His tongue laved at my neck, his lips encasing it with possessiveness I never knew to exist. I felt helpless to him, but why was I okay this time? What was the difference between him and…_that_ person? Why wasn't I trying to get him off of me? Was it because we were still clothed?

Did I trust him now?

Teeth brushed painfully against the supple skin, and I yelped in pain and shock. The noise caused his advancements to halt and I watched the clouds of lust recede from his electric green eyes.

As I panted, he looked down on me with more concern than I thought possible in his eyes. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as my ribs expanded and retracted sporadically. His lips were swollen, but my throat was sure to bear the signs of his—abuse?—no, it wasn't abuse. I knew nothing that had just happened had been against my will.

"Are you all right?" He asked me, and I nodded, breathless. He moved from being on top of me, and I watched him with rapt attention. He cradled his head in a hand. I sat up, pressing a hand to his arm. He lifted his head, eyes glued to the wall. His response was cold, much like his old self.

"Don't touch me," he bit out. I flinched, retracting my hand and looking at him through stunned eyes. An inaudible sigh escaped his lips, his eyelids closed momentarily. He removed himself from the bed and gracefully exited the room. I was astonished, and the ache that was developing in my chest was beginning to bother me.

Why did he just up and leave? I tripped getting out of bed, but that didn't deter me from hurrying down the stairs to find him about to leave the apartment. He's not leaving without an explanation, I thought viciously.

"Stop!" I commanded, and he froze. I couldn't see his face, but my words gave me enough time to get closer to him. His eyes surveyed me as I drew near; shock the emotion winning them over for the moment.

"Don't do that!" I shouted, feeling my anger reach inside to connect to my tear ducts. He didn't speak, and I kept going. "Don't leave without saying anything! I was okay up there," I pointed to my room. "You weren't doing anything wrong!" I could feel trails of saline dripping down my face.

"Yet, you cry as you speak about it." His voice was cool and calm.

"No, I'm crying because you made me mad!" I watched as those words settled in, watched his eyes widen at me for not being frail, for his being ashamed he had thought he'd hurt me. I felt my body being embraced, his head resting on my shoulder. I reciprocated, letting my hands fist his shirt.

-Ulquiorra-

For the fifth time that day, Ulquiorra stared at the clock.

She had decided to return to school so not to worry her relatives (and to give herself peace of mind) while waiting for her friends to return. She had her friends Tatsuki and Chad over, after using the few weeks she had been in attendance to explain and get them to come to terms with her having a person like him in her home. He was…tolerant of the young man and noticed how wary the young woman had been of him. Ulquiorra was not especially thrilled with having to get along with either individual. It seemed the feeling was mutual, and it was apparent both were doing a favor for the woman. She had that affect on people, getting them to do what she wanted to do without realizing she could do it.

12:35.

He flexed his fingers as he leaned on the kitchen counter, glaring at the clock, considering pulling her from her classes. She had approximately twenty minutes left of lunch, eating whatever it was that she packed (red bean paste seemed to be a standard of her daily food intake, and by consequence, it was his, as well). She would then attend her English and P.E. class before she would go participate in the mandatory school clean-up. After that, she was a member of the Handicrafts Club, so she would not be back until later. He sighed, never once in the past month and a half feeling so anxious for her to come home.

He'd rather not leave the confines of the apartment as he was unable to secure the premises, though he was still flirting with the idea. Urahara's might have been the proper reprieve for him at this moment, too. However, he felt a familiar spiritual pressure entering into the little town. He tensed, feeling that this was the reason for his restlessness. He stared at the door, wondering if it would be broken down as the spiritual pressure began to mix with two others that were similar to the first, and one that was unique solely to him.

He knew it to be that brat, two soul reapers, and the Quincy.

Ulquiorra felt a sense of pride that his pesquisa had not dwindled even though his body had undergone many changes. He knew she could sense their return, as her senses had grown stronger. Perhaps she will make an excuse so she can leave class to meet her friends, he thought. It would be preferable to me sneaking her out of class.

He didn't have to wait long, his prediction coming true as he witnessed a certain redhead rushing by the window. He heard her fumbling with the keys, and smirked. He was glad to know that she appeared to him before running off to see the others. Finally, after several failed attempts, the lock clicked open, and she burst into the apartment, breathless. He crossed the room so as to be nearer to her, and to close the door she left standing open.

"Ulquiorra," she gasped out, her hands on her knees as she was doubled over from exerting herself so much. He appraised her as he shut the door behind her, admiring how her school uniform had hiked up much higher than usual, revealing a sliver of lace. He walked around to be in front of her, seeing that her socks were around her ankles. As he took in the full view, the ribbon that went around her neck was loose, belatedly noticing a couple of buttons to her blouse had popped open.

He stood corrected by his previous bout of intuition: this was the real reason he was so ready for her to return to him.

She smiled at him, still panting for air as he commented on her being home so soon. "I was…going to meet Ichigo and the others!" She cried, and he nodded. The grin that lit her face faltered momentarily. Did she recognize that he was a little displeased with her statement? "Ulquiorra…?" She stood up to her full height, still coming up shorter than him by four inches. He looked down at her expectantly. "We don't have to go…right now, I suppose." Somehow, during the time they spent together, he had learned how to bend her to his will, too.

"Woman, your clothes are a bit…distracting." He leaned into her ear to whisper the last word, and he perceived the shiver that went down her spine. Her face darkened red as the ribbon around her neck as her hands tried feebly to tug her skirt down. His body drew closer to hers, and he placed his hands at the waistband of the skirt, looking for the zipper that held the garment in place.

"Perhaps," he breathed against her neck, a deft pair of fingers locating the invisible fastening. "Taking it off might help." The sound seemed to echo as his thumb and forefinger peeled the metal down the side of the skirt to make the opening large enough for it to slip off of her small frame. She made an indistinguishable sound, a mix between a mew and a yelp when the skirt did.

He pressed his lips against her neck, licking the skin to elicit a cry.

"Ulqui…Ulquiorra…?" She stammered nervously. He parted his lips from her throat, internally sighing. He pulled back to look at her face, inflamed with the deepest shade of red. He almost grinned, but knew better than to do so.

"Yes, woman?" She looked up at him, licking her lips and fidgeting with her shirt still.

"Um…are…are you…wanting to…err…" Her hands flew from the hem of her shirt to cover her face, embarrassed and unable to finish her sentence. He grabbed her wrists gently, easily moving her hands away from her face so he could place a kiss on her forehead.

"If you don't want to, I am not yet at my limit. I can wait." She blinked her large eyes up at him, some of the red receding from her cheeks. Her eyes then looked at the floor, her upper lip jutting forward slightly as she chewed on the lower.

"I…I'm willing to…try." She whispered the sentence so low, if he didn't have strong hearing he wouldn't have caught it. He hooked a finger beneath her chin, tugging affectionately so that her attention would be on him.

"There is no 'try', Orihime Inoue. It is either 'yes' or 'no'. It would not be wise to overestimate my control." He stepped closer to emphasize his point. He remembered doing this to her once before, when her back was pressed to a wall. It made him relish the fact that her expression had not changed; it was still wary of him.

Suddenly, her face contorted and tears streamed down her face. A list of curses appeared in his mind's eye as he witnessed her breakdown.

"I w-want to but…I'm scared!" She wailed. In all the time that they had been together, he thought he'd have eliminated her fear, but there was one problem with that thought. Anytime he felt like he needed her beyond kisses and playful touches, they had stopped. He cupped her face in his hands, looking down at her to try and figure out how to comfort her.

"What would you have me do?" He asked her, searching her grey orbs for another answer he would not be able to see. She blinked, her sobs abating for the moment as she pondered the question even though tears still leaked from her eyes. After a long pause punctuated by sniffling as she regained her composure, she grasped his hands, eyes shining.

"Be romantic…like how…every girl imagines her fir—" she cut herself off, eyes watering at the memory. He understood. She wanted to have a memory like she should have had instead of the one she had gotten. "Come with me to see my friends, please. I'm still not sure if they will accept me…I don't want to be alone." He wasn't planning on letting her go alone, but he would keep that to himself.

"If it will make you happy," he said, urging her to her toes as he bent to touch her lips with his.

* * *

**_TBC..._**


	16. Chapter 16

****Disclaimer: As much as it cripples me to say, I do not own Bleach.

A/N: Well, this one's a longer chapter, I hope you all enjoy that bit. Please let me have some feedback on how you felt about this chapter (as there's a scene that I'm not used to writing and I want to see how it's received for the future chapters of this fic). Thank you, as always, to my reviewers! I really do appreciate your feedback!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 16

-Orihime-

We stood together outside of Urahara's shop. Green eyes peered down at me through the black tresses that covered his face.

In the apartment, he had turned away from me so I would have the opportunity to reposition my skirt. His words, not mine. I wasn't sure I was ready for our relationship to become more serious. I mean, wasn't he…my boyfriend? I felt my face growing hot as I brought the skirt up over my hips, zipping it into place. Well, he does live with me and we've been sharing my bed for five weeks now, I thought. I told him I was decent, and he took the doorknob in hand, swiftly opening it. He gestured for me to go ahead and followed me out. After shutting the door, he twisted the key in the lock, bolting the apartment.

'You really shouldn't be so forgetful,' he chided. He didn't say a word to me after that, keeping the silence nice and uncomfortable. His hands remained stashed in his pockets, and he felt so far away from me.

But now he was back, his eyes speaking for him. 'Are you sure?' I drew in a deep breath, exhaling as I announced our presence loudly. The door burst open, a smiling-faced Tessai looking to see Ulquiorra and me waiting patiently to be invited in.

"Oh, friends, come in, come in. I assume you already know that the others are back." I smiled brightly, striding past Tessai.

"Yeah, I left school early so I could see them." I spun on my heel to face Tessai, but my vision was filled with a mouth that I had been kissing for the past few weeks. I blushed and hurriedly backed into someone else. "I'm sorry!" I cried, turning around, seeing that it was Uryu. He was readjusting his glasses because I had knocked them loose.

"It's all right, Orihime," he said amiably, walking forward to embrace me. I allowed the hug, happy to know that his friendship hadn't wavered. He held me at arm's length, his eyes examining my countenance as thoroughly as he could, and saw the almost imperceptible look he gave the one who stood behind me. "I'm glad you're all right." He pulled me into his arms again, but I released him, seeing Ichigo, Rukia, and Renji attempting to enter into the small entrance hall; all three pairs of eyes fixed on me with expressions that could only mean they had missed me. Urahara's face bobbed up from behind the aforementioned three.

"Hey, let's move this into the living room," he called. I agreed, and thanked him silently. The corridor was giving me a bout of claustrophobia with the amount of people. So we all followed the shopkeeper into the larger room, before I was almost brought down with a massive hug from one much tinier than me.

"Orihime," she cried. I smiled at the affection I was receiving from her. Having known her for so long, I noticed Rukia occasionally had very demonstrative moments. She relinquished me, pulling back enough to straighten her shirt. "I'm sorry if I startled you, it's just that I have wanted to talk with you for over a month now, and you left the Soul Society so fast…" Rukia had returned to normal, so it was my turn to remind her she hadn't been all that well when the trial had happened, and it would be easier for everyone if I left right away.

"I didn't want to be a bother to anyone." Renji smiled at me, but I noticed that his eyes darted occasionally to the one behind me, looking a bit uneasy.

"Nonsense, you are rarely a bother to anyone," the tattooed soul reaper denied, shrugging his shoulders in a fashion that made it seem as though it was indeed not a big deal. Then my eyes fell on Ichigo, he pointed towards a room in the back, motioning for me to follow him. Ulquiorra was much too quiet, and I turned to hold him, being more overt than I planned on being in front of everyone. It might have been too much, too soon for the others, but he seemed to need it more than I needed everybody to not freak out.

"Are you going with Kurosaki?" He asked me, his lips at my ear as he returned the embrace. I shivered, noting the cool tone he had taken.

"I need to…to just…air everything out." Ulquiorra let his arms fall to his sides, pulling back, making an indifferent face at me. His green eyes were cold.

"I see." The expression sent chills down my spine, but I didn't heed them. Before he could make me change my mind, I ran after Ichigo. He stood with his back to me in the room, and it appeared like he was holding something.

"Ichigo," I said cautiously. He faced me and in his hands was the only remnant of what I had brought back—because it was all I _could_ bring back. My eyes darted between Ulquiorra's bone helmet and Ichigo's taut smile. He was trying to show me support in my decision.

"I…thought you'd want it back…but apparently it's not really necessary, is it?" I walked up to him, taking the peace offering into my hands. I couldn't help looking at it, letting my fingertips run over the completely smooth bone. I tore my gaze from it to thank Ichigo properly for returning it to me.

"It still means a lot that you brought it back," I whispered, moving closer so that I could wrap my arms around him. "Thank you."

"You're…welcome," he said, reciprocating the hug I freely gave. We pulled apart quickly though, hearing Renji shouting at someone.

"What do you mean he just 'showed up'?" I didn't give Ichigo another look, using my intuition to glean the information I was lacking. With the would-be memento in hand, I strode back into the living room with the sole purpose to keep a fight from breaking out.

Sure enough, Ulquiorra was glaring at Renji, who was yelling more nonsensical phrases at Urahara. Most of it was incoherent barks of 'can't believe it' and 'never would have thought'. I tried to flag down someone so to at least get Renji to calm down. Rukia noticed me attempting to do just that and promptly elbowed Renji in the ribs, hard. The redhead immediately doubled over, and glowered at her.

"What'd you do that for?"

"If you'd stop being an idiot, maybe some of your…well, actually Orihime, I think we'd all like an explanation." Rukia spoke calmly, but underneath that calm was a serious person who did not like the fact she did not know what was going on. I addressed her unconsciously thumbing Ulquiorra's severed mask.

"Well…we all know I tried to bring Ulquiorra back, and that didn't work because he somehow reformed on this side." Rukia gave me a look, but Renji gave it a voice.

"How could that guy have? I've seen regeneration, and that guy isn't _that_ powerful. Ichigo demolished him!" I felt a hand grasp my shoulder, tight but controlled. My eyes examined that hand, knowing who it belonged to, and somehow knowing why he was holding onto me. I was his tether to sanity, his reason to stay in control.

"You are boorish, Soul Reaper, speaking of me as though I am not here." I could hear how the individual words were clipped. "If not for her, I would prove you wrong." If the grip on my shoulder wouldn't have prevented me moving away, I would have. My head snapped in his direction.

"Ulquiorra," I said, eyes wide, silently pleading for him to get along with everyone. His icy gaze met mine, but thawed seeing how scared I was for the situation. He kept his eyes lock on mine as he spoke again.

"I do not expect you to understand, but I request the respect I deserve. Considering that she is still alive," his hand gently brushed against the surface of my skin, making me flush. "I have given you no reason to think that I am a threat to you." His hand rested to cup my cheek. I felt my body tense as my stomach lurched in the way that it always did when he touched me. He shocked me, though I hadn't expected him to be so overt in front of the others. I kind of wasn't ready for everyone to see this.

"You shouldn't touch Orihime like that," Ichigo interjected as he must have seen my uneasiness.

"I-its fine, Ichigo," I stuttered, breaking eye contact to look at the room, all of whom seemed to be holding their breath. Rukia's eyes were narrowed, not with antagonism, but with wariness. Uryu and Renji appeared to be torn with conflicting emotions of concern and not wanting to be involved in anything that may lead to hostility. Ichigo took the cake for that though; his expression did little to hide the unbridled fury in his eyes.

Feeling the pad of his thumb stroking my cheek, I returned my attention to Ulquiorra. His face was much closer to mine, the tip of his nose touching mine.

"She is the one to whom I credit my life." Before my brain could comprehend that he was going to kiss me—he didn't. I felt my body wrench towards the silent crowd, crashing into Renji and Uryu. They caught and steadied me right as my mind began to register what my eyes were witnessing.

The skirmish began, full force. Ichigo, the much larger of the two, blocked Ulquiorra from my sight. He lunged forward, moving to lay into the other. His missed. Ulquiorra side-stepped the attack, taking up stance where I had been standing, ensnared, moments ago.

Ichigo recovered, fist formed and charging without hesitation. Ulquiorra's hand reached up, catching the oncoming force. His feet staggered under the pressure, but cast Ichigo back. It wasn't far. Ichigo's foot was where Ulquiorra's nose had been.

I watched Ulquiorra take up stance again. He was keeping distance between them. Ichigo managed to get both feet quickly underneath him. He was ready to continue the fight.

"No, Ulquiorra, Ichigo—both of you—stop it!" I tried to run in between them, but Uryu grabbed my shoulder to hold me in place. I could barely tear my eyes away to look up at my friend.

"Don't, let them work it out." My trepidation was not eased as Ichigo leapt forward, fist aimed at Ulquiorra's face. It was deflected effortlessly. Ulquiorra drove a kick to Ichigo's chest. Blocked. The two got within arm's reach of each other. Ichigo's knee was evaded despite the close proximity.

_Whack! _Ulquiorra's palm landed the first hit. Ichigo was thrown off-balance, massaging his breastplate. He recovered quickly, sweeping a kick that took Ulquiorra's legs out from under him. I jerked forward, but was again held back, this time by Renji.

"I'm not going to let you get punched." I looked at Renji who had a grim expression, and turned as I heard the crack. Both men had a right handed fist shoved against their face. It sounded as though they sustained the same injuries, one of which being a shattered cheekbone. I almost didn't notice Ulquiorra's slight movement as his concussion broke faster. He swiftly lifted his knee and thrust out, his foot connecting with Ichigo's chest once more with another, sickening crack.

-Ulquiorra-

He saw her stalk towards him out of the corner of his eye as the substitute soul reaper lay on his back, barely breathing. He allowed himself to square himself to her and felt the slight sting as her hand struck out against his face, feeling the splinters of bone stick in multiple directions of his cheek. He'd be damned if he'd show that her attack had been painful.

This was her second time to strike him, and if he was remembering correctly, she had been pretty upset with him then, too.

"I told you to stop!" She shouted at him. His stare hardened. He would not be commanded like some dog. Just now, he had been defending something that was rightfully his, and she dare to _not_ want him to stand up to the substitute soul reaper? I will not allow it. He knew the moment they had arrived at the house, something in her was different, but he would remind her where she belongs. Even if it takes the rest of this human life, he thought.

"Answer me, why didn't you stop?" Her demanding tone made him eye the other individuals in the room who were obviously astounded at how familiar the woman had been with him. He had probably gone a little too fair baiting that brat judging by the state he was in at present, but at least this time he didn't have a hole through his chest. He had shown restraint in that aspect. Though, that wasn't why he believed he won. It was all due to the fact that she hadn't immediately started to heal Kurosaki. It told him that even though she was angry with him, wasn't healing him; she was more _focused_ on him than the substitute soul reaper. He felt a swell of pride at this.

He glanced at her, watching her heaving chest, her glinting eyes. "You are mine," he murmured, giving her a smoldering stare. The affect it had on her was instantaneous, her antipathy towards him for the transgression melting away. Her cream-white skin darkened, red pluming in her cheeks. She shied away from his gaze, opting to call upon Shuno and Ayame to heal the brat. He scoffed, stepping towards the entrance to the living area. The twinge in his cheek reminded him that Kurosaki was worse off than he.

The others seemed to come back from a long reverie, talking animatedly amongst them as the warm glow of her power filled the room. She kept her back to him as she pressured her Shun Shun Rikka to regenerate the bones that he had destroyed.

"Mr. Ulquiorra," a timid whisper called to him. He located the young girl he had met over a month ago. She was close to him, standing in the hallway entrance. She had something in her hand that was acutely comparative to the PEZ canisters he had seen while he was a human youth and the ones the woman had collected while she had been.

"Ah, Ururu, glad to see you found the gikongan for our friend here." Urahara interjected, smiling at the little girl, ruffling her black hair a bit. Ururu extended her hand, presenting it to him to take, which he did. He looked at it, seeing a duck's head on it. Internally, he allowed himself to be puzzled by the strange plastic container.

"Oh cool, which one did Kisuke get you?" The woman he distinctly remembered to have killed and been killed by Aaroniero Arruruerie pounced over to him, clutching his arm holding the piece of plastic. "Yuki—oh wow! Kisuke, how come he got to have such a popular one in his first go?" She whined at the shopkeeper who held up his hands in surrender.

"He's been helping me out a lot around the shop."

"Yeah, unlike a certain freeloader we know," Jinta's voice jibed from somewhere near the redhead and tattooed soul reaper.

"Hey, I've been doing work! It's called protecting you ungrateful bastards from the hollows!" He shouted, looking down to his left where Jinta was located. His face grew to be puce though after his exclamation, his brown eyes wide. "Uh…sorry, Ulquiorra…I didn't mean to insult you." He was slightly amused at how hastily the soul reaper had apologized. It mattered not to him, seeing as he no longer belonged to the group of Espadas that were bound to be in this world soon. If Lord Aizen has finally carried out his plan, Ulquiorra thought with some distaste.

"I care not, Soul Reaper." However, in remembering the betrayer of the soul reapers, he wondered where that would put him on the battlefield. He gave a cursory glance at the woman, still working on the brat, who was sitting up now. He felt himself torn between two circumstances—actually participating in the fight or staying back to protect her.

He knew she could defend herself, but she could not attack. Her precious Tsubaki lacked the power as her resolve to annihilate an opponent was not strong enough. And if they get through her shield… She barely held her own against those two weaklings Loly Aivirrne and Melony Mallia. What if it was Tier Harribel's fracción? Better yet, what if Baraggan Louisenbairn's fracción attacked her? He could not, _would_ not let her face that alone.

"Besides, Jinta, you're one to talk. You don't help out unless Mr. Tessai threatens you within an inch of your life," Ururu said nonchalantly as she made to leave the living room. Jinta sprinted after her, making drastic gestures with his hands all the while. He had no doubt that the boy was going to give the girl a hard time once they were out of earshot.

He felt someone pluck the object out of his hands, and he turned to see the woman with an expression that clearly read that she was not amused. He had half a mind to tear it back from her, but decided to let her anger run its course.

"Thank you Urahara for providing him with one of these, but he's not going to need it." She didn't look at him; she kept her eyes glued on the shopkeeper. Urahara made a protesting noise, which she promptly continued. "If he had access to one of these, I believe I would have had to resurrect Ichigo from ashes, and you'd currently need a new shop because you and I both know that they'd have leveled this place." Urahara cough discretely, and he tipped his hat down so as to ensure his face was shrouded.

"Well, what is he going to do when Sōsuke shows up?"

"Yeah, Orihime, what is this guy going to be doing when Aizen decides to show his face?" The brat staggered over to the group, and the raven-haired woman went to his side to try to support him.

"_Ulquiorra_," she stressed his name, "won't be doing anything." His eyes widened at this, and he looked at her as though she was suffering a bout of lunacy. Apparently everyone else had, too, except the other female in the room.

"You cannot defend yourself, woman," he said, quickly surmising the expressed feeling mostly everyone had. Her face was deadly close to his, but he did not back down from his stance. She did not invoke despair in him; he felt no foreboding. Urahara intervened, addressing the woman.

"Orihime, he's right. I'm not saying your shield isn't powerful, but what if they break through it? Then what? We all know Tsubaki isn't strong enough." She allowed her body to shift back down to her heels as she gazed at the shopkeeper. Her face had shifted its expression, becoming awash with insecurities he remembered from his time as an Espada.

"All of you will be fighting, and I'll just be in the back healing. I know that, and I can protect us both so he doesn't have to go out on the battlefield. I'm stronger than I was." He allowed his perceptive eyes to sweep over the room, taking in how each individual took her words. The brat's woman appeared saddened while his guilt was written all over his face. The redheaded soul reaper did not seem affected by her words, looking as serious as Urahara had been. The bespectacled one just pressed his glasses further up his nose.

"Orihime, we didn't say that. It's just that you aren't…made for battle." He watched her solemnly return the gikongan to Urahara and move to pick up something near the feet of the tattooed soul reaper. His eyes widened, seeing the remnants of his mask in her hand. She looked at it, then at the room.

"Say what you will, but this"—she held up the mask—"this is the reason I know I am ready for battle. I can bring back what shouldn't exist, and I can keep those whom I care for safe if I will it to be reality." She walked out of the living room, leaving a stunned set of reiatsu wielders in her wake. The front door opened and shut without preamble, and he decided to follow her, not wanting to be left alone with these people who were her friends.

"Ulquiorra," Urahara said hastily. He looked at the traditionally attired man, noticing how his eyes glinted in the shade of his hat. He extended the hand with the gikongan to him. "For our sanity, please, take it. I know she doesn't want you to have it, but you know as well as we do that she cannot bear to commit the sin that we've had. I'm not saying you'll have to use it. I'm not saying you need to use it—"

"Quit lying, Kisuke," interrupted Kurosaki. His turned to the substitute soul reaper he had defeated three times now. His eyes were lit with a fire he recalled very well. "You better use it during the fight. Otherwise, your words earlier will be meaningless. Aizen had you kidnap her for a reason, right?"

"Yes, but I do not see how that concerns you." He pocketed the soul candy dispenser, dismissing the substitute soul reaper nonchalantly.

"She's my friend—she's a friend to _all_ of us. I'll fight Aizen, but if you don't protect her…" Ulquiorra stood up as straight as he could, hearing the challenge in Kurosaki's voice as he left his sentence hanging.

"Don't threaten me, _brat_," Ulquiorra retorted icily.

"Don't give me reason to have to," hissed the strawberry-blond. The two stared at each other, glares passing between coffee and viridian-colored eyes.

"I will let her have her way," he pronounced with great composure. "I will allow her a chance to prove she has the strength; however, I will only interfere when that strength wanes. She is _mine_ to protect." He turned on his heel and followed her out of the shopkeeper's house, where she was waiting with the mask in her hands.

* * *

**_TBC..._**


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Don't own.

EDIT!A/N: Sorry everyone who's just now reading this story. I went through the other night and fixed some of the breaks that were supposed to happen during the story. I apologize for any inconvenience impacted by this. I love you all!

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 17

-Orihime-

My eyes shifted from the bone helmet, my fingers shaking as I recalled the despair I had felt under the impression Ulquiorra was gone. I couldn't bring myself to leave him behind, and I came to the conclusion that I'd forgive him for starting the fight.

I turned towards the door to Urahara's shop when I heard it open. He gave me a rare expression. The corners of his mouth were barely uplifted, but it was the only way he knew how to smile. His eyes fell on the piece of his old self in my hands.

"You kept it." His velvet voice coupled with the vague happiness in his emerald eyes to make my knees weak.

"It was all I had of you, speaking of which," I reached up to touch his shattered cheek. He did not flinch away from me, but he denied my unspoken request.

"It will heal on its own." I didn't believe this for a second, noticing every twitch his mouth made caused a look of pain to skirt through his vivid green eyes. He took my hand, and I allow him to lead us back home without protest. Maybe he was sore at me for exacerbating the wound by slapping him and then tending to Ichigo. And the fact that I would keep him out of the battle that was soon to occur probably wasn't helping his mood either.

I just couldn't bear it if something happened to him again.

After a dinner of pineapple-flavored rice and white fish sautéed in red bean paste—yum!—we sat on the couch to watch some television, like most days. Though, after the second program that we usually enjoyed on this day of the week, Ulquiorra decided he would turn in early to give his injury 'optimal time to repair itself'. I rolled my eyes, following him up the stairs, even though I wasn't sleepy yet. It was natural that I join him because I moved too much in my sleep if I wasn't curled into his body.

We took turns in the bathroom, and finally lay down for the night. He didn't kiss my forehead like he usually did when he offered me his wish of a good night. I hid my grin, knowing the reason to be the fragments of bone stuck oddly in his cheek. I lay my head down on him like a pillow, and waited for his breathing to slow and his heart to be lethargic. It didn't take long for him to be fast asleep and I whispered, "Souten Kishun, I reject."

He did not stir as the bones regrouped and reset themselves in their correct place, time reversing for the tiny area. As soon as Ayame and Shuno were finished, they returned to me, and I snuggled closer to him, ready to deny having healed him without his consent when morning came.

* * *

"You want to what?" I asked him as I watched him frying a couple of eggs in a pan for breakfast while the toaster darkened the bread that had been placed in a few seconds before.

"I will not repeat myself." He was focused on the eggs, using a spatula to dole two onto his plate and two on mine. The toast popped up, and he swiftly buttered the two pieces, handing me one while he set the other on his plate. He nudged the red bean paste canister towards me, indulging—no, bribing me this breakfast, because he had started to closely monitor my intake of the delectable goodness. By doing so, he had taken up kitchen detail and rarely let me cook anything without his supervision. He nagged me about how I'd have high cholesterol and probably suffer a heart attack if I continued to eat it at the rate I had been.

"Fine," I said taking a larger-than-necessary bite out of the toast thickly layered with paste. "You can walk me, but you can't come to school. You'd have to be…a student or…a teacher…or something." He scoffed at me.

"I know this, woman. I _do_ remember my last encounter as a human." Ulquiorra and I nibbled on our breakfast in silence, both contemplating different things. Was he human now? Urahara hadn't been able to answer that question either; he just said that we would have to wait to find out whenever _I_ deemed it necessary for him to fight. Maybe he hoped that by piquing my curiosity, I'd give in and let Ulquiorra join the others when Aizen decided to attack. I wasn't going to budge though, despite how much he had been trying to persuade me the past four days.

Declaring how good breakfast was in the form of a kiss, I ran upstairs to brush my teeth and grab my jacket. It had been unseasonably warm the day the others returned, but seeing as it was February I had no choice other than to don the coat so not to freeze. I looked for Ulquiorra's coat, too, but it wasn't in the closet.

"Ulquiorra, do you already have your—" I started to call down the stairs when I saw him in the black pilot jacket I had gotten for him when I went to stock up on food. It suits him, I thought smiling, hurrying to meet him on the ground floor. My arms went around him and his lips found mine without hesitation, massaging with languid force. I pressed my body further into him, tasting orange juice on his lips. He broke away before I was ready for him to, and he brushed past me to go upstairs.

I waited patiently, checking and re-checking that I had all of my school supplies. He sauntered down the stairs, his hands in his pockets right as I had made sure my keys were in my right coat pocket. He promptly opened the door for me, and pulled it shut after him. I took out my keys, and he stole them from me, deftly locking and replacing the silver back into my hands.

My face was protected from the cold, winter air due to the rush of blood to my cheeks as he escorted me. There was no other word for it. His hand had found its way into mine, lacing our fingers together. His expression was less than thrilled, his jade eyes glinting with a threat that made me uncomfortable. However, an unforgivable arctic gust caused me to lean against him, hiding my face against his black sleeve. Those frosty eyes gazed down upon me through his messy locks. They smiled at me, his expression softening just a bit, provoking my blush further. I didn't pull away from him though, desiring the warmth his body produced to allowing just a little of the chill on my right side.

"Did you play there when you were a child?" Ulquiorra's question uprooted me from my thoughts as I looked around to see what he was talking about. The playground to my left had indeed been the one my grandmother had taken me often after Sora had passed away.

"Yes, I did. Grandma quit taking me there after I met…" my voice trailed off, and my feet came to a halt. I knew his eyes were on me, but I wasn't paying attention. My memory replayed meeting the astonishingly green-eyed boy from the playground, and my grandmother's aversion to 'such a strange young man' as she had called him. "You're…that's why you asked about the playground…" I had known him, even if it had just been for a little while, I had _met_ him before he became a hollow, before he became Espada. I felt my free hand twitching, shaking with the emotion that was enveloping me. As my eyes began to water, I felt his arms enclose tight around me.

"There's no need to shed tears." I wanted to be a brat and say that I wasn't crying, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. "I am here now, so what does it matter if you had forgotten the little boy I was?"

"But…I forgot you…and you didn't…" I blubbered, gripping his jacket, subjecting my fingers to the blistering cold. His arms loosened to slide up my back to cradle my head, pulling it gently back so that I'd look at him. His expression was grim.

"I didn't attack you." Now, he didn't have to hold my head so that I'd look at him. The question must have been all over my face, as he answered it without prodding. "My mother. When I became hollow I devoured her, and I found my father soon after." The ice in his voice was only comparable to the cold steel in his eyes. My tears gave way to my astonishment.

"I-I'm sorry," I hurriedly spoke, taken aback at the sudden news. He was not hasty with his accompanying reply. His eyes looking much older—and perhaps he was much older. It was nearly impossible to keep time in the perpetual night of Las Noches. Maybe time there moved differently than in this world, faster.

"It was a long time ago for me."

"I know why you did it." It was a dark thing to say, and it startled me that I had said it. He appeared taken aback. I hurriedly explained myself. "I-I was attacked. My brother almost succeeded in eating my soul. It was because I had been the one to keep him here, telling him about my problems at school and at home. I constantly told him how much I missed him. It was only natural he would come to me when he turned, or at least, that's what Urahara said after the incident." His lips captured mine before I could say anything more on the matter. Fighting was useless, so I leaned into him, allowing him to hold me with all of his might as I did him with mine.

"Come now, I am determined to have you arrive on time." I did not argue, and let him lead me in the direction of the high school I attended in Karakura Town.

-Ulquiorra-

After what felt like an hour's delay, he had managed to get her to school before the first bell rang. He kept her pressed to his side, shielding her as best as he could from the bitter cold that had begun to swirl around them. Even as the sun climbed higher, the frigidity seemed to worsen rather than ease up. He would be back here to retrieve her at the proper time. He had decided that when he had voiced his desire to bring her to school today. Something just didn't feel right to him, and Ulquiorra was not aware of why that was just yet.

She leaned up to him, pressing her soft lips against his cheek in farewell. As she made to slip from his arms, he held her fast, seeing the blush that was steadily becoming darker. He could not bring himself to be so overt without any motive to do so, though his lips touched her forehead with the utmost sincerity of how he felt. She blinked up at him, those gray eyes wide with such innocence, and she looked down.

"I will be accompanying you home, as well," he stated matter-of-factly. She bristled and removed herself from his hold.

"I don't need a babysitter! Besides, you're not being charged to look after me. I can look after my—_self_!" She shouted the last part as another student ran into her. He noticed that she had short hair and glasses.

"Oh Little Orihime," cooed the girl. In an undertone he swore he heard her make a comment about the woman's bust, and watched as her eager hands inched ever nearer that part of her body. He would not permit someone else to touch what was rightfully his, but then again…maybe this was how she and her female friends interacted? He stared as the taller student groped the woman.

"Chizuru…stop," she protested, giggling while trying to pry Chizuru's hands from her breasts.

"Orihime, you just have such a wonderful figure, how can I not want to ravish it?" Ulquiorra felt his hands twitching between being loose and forming fists. Did this girl not see that the woman was with him? Suddenly, a familiar tomboyish looking girl punched the overly demonstrative female. In her shocked state, the woman she held hostage was able to escape and he moved in front of her—his back to the onlookers—so as to not give the girl a second chance to grab what was his.

"Ulquiorra," she hissed in his ear. "I can handle myself. Chizuru always does that." He gave her a sideways glance.

"You condone being fondled in public?" His voice was anything but askance, placing his hand on the curve of her waist. The blood cells in her cheeks appeared to have exploded because of how red and blotchy her skin became under such duress.

"Hey, Ulquiorra!" He didn't acknowledge the one named Tatsuki, but she continued anyway. "Just because you two are going out doesn't mean I won't hit you if you make Orihime cry!" He noticed that she was right; the woman was on the verge of tears with the aspect of her reputation being shattered in mind. However, she needed to learn a lesson.

"I would prefer not to engage in a fight with another of her friends." He looked at the short-haired girl. She was at the ready in one of her stances.

"Remove your hand from Orihime, then!" Tatsuki didn't need to add the 'or else'; her posture and her words implied it enough. His gaze returned to the woman he held, her eyes filled with panic. Not only was it her reputation she was worried about, Tatsuki had garnered her concern, as well. He would not be so cruel as to destroy the human, and so he sighed in defeat, resigning himself to teach the lesson later.

He felt the tell-tale sting on his cheek, and her hand was returning to her side after striking. Not that it hurt terribly, but he was not fond of her manhandling him. He grabbed her wrist swiftly, and pulled her into him so he could speak without being overheard.

"I grow tired of that action, woman," he whispered darkly, then released her. "I will be back for you at sixteen-thirty." And he turned on his heel before she could get a word in edge-wise. Why did she have to be so infuriating? She was being unreasonable, and allowing other people take advantage of her did not help his mood.

* * *

When he arrived for her, he saw many students uninvolved in extracurricular activities filing out of the school entry, buzzing with talk about Valentine's Day. Oh no, he thought, his countenance impassive to the words. Inwardly though, he was devastated as he knew she would follow the tradition. If it was his nature to groan, he would. She didn't know that he detested sweets—and if his former human life was any indication, he was allergic to chocolate.

He waited impatiently for his redhead to finally emerge, flanked by the others—the brat paying special attention to her. He fisted his hands, concealed by his pockets in his coat. He obviously couldn't understand that he had claimed her.

"I don't know why you're letting him control you like that. It's not right, Orihime. It's not nice," he heard the substitute soul reaper saying.

"He's not controlling me, Ichigo, he's just…protective." He was pleased she had stood up to her friends, and he released his fists.

"And I'd wager he's jealous," Uryu added in low tones to Orihime. He watched her face darken with embarrassment and she pushed the Quincy away from her. The other human, Chad, nudged everyone. All halted seeing him standing outside of the school gates.

"Ulquiorra…" she whispered, hesitantly moving through the guards that were her friends. He watched her hands clutching each other, and he reached out of his pockets to grab them. Gray eyes met his in shock, and she stammered an apology for earlier that day. He felt better hearing the words, and he held her gaze. Perhaps he was becoming too soft, the words just enough to ease him out of his bad mood to be more accommodating to her. He nodded, accepting the request for forgiveness without speaking. She looked down uncomfortably, and his heart squeezed. Cursing himself, he enclosed her. His arms were possessively around her, shielding her from whatever lied outside of his embrace. It was the right thing to do, he noted, feeling her return the embrace with a fervor that he'd akin to desperation.

"Let's go home," he whispered to her, feeling her shiver as his lips caressed the soft shell of her ear. It was her turn to nod, imperceptive to her friends. Gazing up through his lashes, he glared at the brat with strawberry-blond hair, before turning his back to the crowd with the woman pressed tight to his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shift to call back to her friends,

"I'll see you tomorrow!" And she waved her left hand at them, as his left arm was securing the rest of her body to him. They didn't speak for the entirety of the walk home. He had caught her nervously biting her lip, as if she truly wished to talk with him, but she did not utter a word. He did not remove his hand from her waist, either, enjoying too much the curve of her willowy frame for such a petite body.

She unlocked the door, and he allowed her inside first, removing the keys for her from the lock and shutting it after himself. Her flushed cheeks from cold made him remember things he wished to do with her. Internally, he shook himself, not wanting to frighten her like he had done not too long ago.

She began to shed her layers of protective wear, and his eyes were greedy. He watched her soft fingers that had been exposed to the harsh weather outside fumble with the buttons of her coat. He imagined that they were shy and uncertain; as if she was to bear it all for him should the warm article of clothing be stripped away. Controlling himself, he approached her. His fingers replaced hers, deftly removing her coat. He wanted to lean in, to let the jacket fall to the floor and take her. But he would not. He had obligations—expectations she needed him to meet. So he took the piece of clothing, and ascended the stairs, placing the coat on a hanger in her closet.

She was still, motionless in the same place he had left her moments before when he came back downstairs. He once again moved to be near her.

"They think I'm crazy, you know." Her voice wavered as she finally broke the silence between them. "They think I should h-hand you over…" her voice cracked. He lifted his hand, cupping her face so that his thumb could brush away the solitary tear that had fallen.

"I can see how your friends would prefer that outcome. There are times when I'm in this house that I ponder the same question: why?"

"Why? Because I would never willingly allow someone who was not a threat—" He cut her words at that.

"'Not a threat'?" He repeated, almost with too much casualness as his hand slid to the base of her neck, cradling it.

"You didn't let me finish," she protested and quickly finished, "not a threat to _me_. I couldn't let you be killed again." He watched her as he toyed with her auburn hair.

"Why couldn't you?" He asked, giving no inflection on the question so not to give himself away. She looked at him incredulous.

"You know why! I—I love you." Her hesitant words hung in the air, declaring her to him. He peered into her gray eyes, his hand stayed at the back of her neck. Such simple words, he thought remembering the times his mother and he had said them casually between each other. This love was different, passionate and full of implications. His human mind knew he had the level of affection that the woman had proclaimed. The other side wanted to possess her, dominate her; he wanted to make her understand her place. And somewhere in the middle rode his desire for her to be happy.

"I will be devoted to you," he stated huskily, his other hand moving to caress her hip. He stepped closer to her, cautiously guiding himself to her lips. This would be everything she would ever want, and he would leave his darker self to be sated another time.

She was not new to the brush of his lips against hers, though it took a moment for her to respond. It must have startled her for him to measure himself, to keep his control. Her lips pushed against his hungrily, like most of their kisses had been. He allowed her to attack with vigor, all the while fixing himself to the soft motions of his tongue gliding against hers when it invaded his mouth. He massaged the back of her neck, continuing the mismatched pace of eager lips versus patient ones.

The woman pulled back, her breaths coming out in pants. She looked at him, confusion in her cloudy eyes. He could see the formation of a pout coming to her lips, and his head dipped to her creamy throat. His tongue laved at the connection between shoulder and neck, kissing it intermittently while he waited for her question. He kept the unhurried tempo, letting her know she could leave at any time. It was about her tonight.

"I—I want to go…" the swallow she made was audible with him so near the source, "upstairs," she finished quietly. He smiled against her skin, kissing it once more.

"Shall I follow, or do you wish to be alone?"

* * *

**_TBC..._**


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own these lovely characters.

A/N: Thank you all for bearing with me! I know it's been a very long time since my last update, so forgive me. I've been fangirling in a different fandom. Never fear, I shall finish this story! Enough of me babbling, please enjoy yourselves.

**Where She Belongs**

**By: Apherion**

Chapter 18

-Orihime-

When I woke up, memories of the night before flooded me, and I groaned, covering my face with my hands.

We had _almost_ had sex. If I had to press my finger and thumb any closer together, then it would probably show exactly how close we had been. We were so close it ashamed me to think about what a debacle the entire thing had been. Maybe it wasn't a complete disaster. After all, everything was fine for the half of the event that was to take place.

His words were like velvet, whispering lightly in my ear things that I could never possibly repeat and other things about how well _I_ was doing. My cheeks flared remembering the phrases and sentiments he had perverted and felt my stomach clenching while heat coursed through me. Those words combined with the mere memory of his voice caused me to feel aroused.

If I imagined hard enough, I could recall perfectly the way it had felt to have him caressing me. I could even remember his fingers, and then his tongue.

I writhed on the bed, the sensations still to fresh for me. That's probably why I passed out; therefore, why we had _almost_ had sex. He must hate me, I thought, tearing off the coverlet. I knew he wasn't in bed with me, so I figured he must have excused himself from it, and didn't return for the remainder of the night. I stumbled into the bathroom, and almost cried from relief and embarrassment as soon as I read the sticky note he had placed there.

_Woman,_

_I did not wish to wake you. I was asked to come by Urahara's shop this morning and did not wish to disturb you. I apologize for not taking into account your inexperience. I will escort you home again._

Of course, he couldn't possibly call me by my name after murmuring it in my ear last night, I thought sarcastically after I was able to get over the mortifying fact that I passed out. Then I remembered it was Valentine's Day, and Tatsuki and I had planned yesterday to grab our chocolates together.

Oh no, I thought, racing through the house for my uniform, pulling a brush through my hair as I went. I downed a granola bar, something that Ulquiorra would have been proud of, with a glass of milk before rushing to brush my teeth. I felt like hell by the time I ran out the door, locking up hurriedly.

Tatsuki was there, thankfully. She wasn't angry or anxious; she was just looking at me.

"Oh I figured you'd be late," she appraised me as I got closer. "You're skin looks amazing, what did you do?" She asked me as she took my arm and led me into the chocolate shop already infiltrated with girls from every high school in the surrounding area, and some middle school girls, too. I had to work to conceal my blush. Apparently the rumor was true, even if you didn't go all the way.

"Um, nothing at all, just got some new facial cleanser," I lied quickly, and turned my back on her to begin eyeing the shelves stocked with the many sorts of chocolates. Tatsuki soon found herself among the chocolate selectors, too. I put a finger to my lips, contemplating hard between getting chocolates sprinkled with red chili powder—spicy and sweet would be a good combination, right?—or dark chocolate filled with mint. I pulled both packages off the shelves, noting both were relatively small, and within my budget if I couldn't decide. I mean, I was leaning towards the dark chocolate and mint because it reminded me of the stark contrast he was, but then again, he reminded me of the heat and passion he has, too. Oh, I wish I knew!

"If you ask me what I think, which I'm sure you don't, but I'm going to say it anyway," I turned to gaze at Tatsuki who was holding four boxes of chocolates. "I wouldn't buy Ichigo one this year." I raised an eyebrow, curious as to what she meant. The taller girl ran a hand through her spiky locks. "I mean, think about it. You've all but thrown yourself at that guy's feet and what does he do? He goes after Rukia. Here, hold these for a second." She piled her chocolates in my hand, and I was suddenly thankful for the array of colors each chocolate was wrapped in so that I'd be able to distinguish mine from the excess in my hands.

"Uh, Tatsuki, it's fine really I—"

"No, Orihime, you're going to hear me out this time. I'm so pissed off! You and Ichigo, he protected you when I couldn't, that's why I always wanted him to see that you liked him. But now—and it's not that I don't like him, it's just he could be _dangerous_ Orihime. You barely know him, and it's Ichigo's fault that you're with him. I felt you were always safer with Ichigo, even though he's a complete dumbass." I knew Tatsuki was mad; she gave me the chocolates so she wouldn't break them, but I felt speechless. No, I _was_ speechless. I stood there gaping at Tatsuki as she gave me a piece of her mind a quarter till first bell. I was numb hearing my best friend tell me she didn't trust Ulquiorra, and that she blamed Ichigo for allowing this all to happen.

"Tatsuki, I…I was just buying these for Ulquiorra." My voice was timid and I must have looked like a beaten dog because Tatsuki embraced me, hard.

"Please don't cry, Orihime, please don't." Tatsuki's expression shifted dramatically from anger to comforting. Chagrinned she began again. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just had to tell you what's been going on through my mind. And how that Ulquiorra guy was acting yesterday, trying to make you cry in front of all of us; you know how I get. I'm sorry," the tomboy that had been my savoir since elementary school held me a moment longer before letting go to retrieve her packages from my hands.

"I—I know," I choked out. "But Ulquiorra…he was upset, too. He's…jealous," I giggled as the words escaped my lips. We began to move to the front of the store to the cashier as I talked. "He doesn't really understand about Chizuru, and he knows more than I'd care to admit about Ichigo." We separated at the checkout line, which was mercifully short, letting the discussion drop for the moment. After we had checked out, and my change clinking in my purse, I continued the conversation.

"Tatsuki," I grabbed her hands, looking up into her eyes, hoping for her to believe me. "I know that it may seem hard to believe, but Ulquiorra and I protect each other. He looks after me in a way Ichigo…I don't think ever could. He's a good man, Tatsuki. I know it's hard to see it, but he truly is." Tatsuki nodded, and squared her shoulders in the direction of school.

"All right, let's see what he gets you for White Day, then." Seeing that we only had ten minutes to get to school, we ran the entire way, barely entering homeroom on time.

-Ulquiorra-

When he had arrived at the shop, he expected the little girl to swoop down on him with buckets of cleaning water or a hammer and nails or even a broomstick. However, he had not been expecting the shopkeeper to grab him, and pull him into the basement of the shop—which turned out to not be a basement at all.

Ulquiorra looked at the desert wasteland filled with varying plateaus. It was there the girl was suited up in boxing gear, and Urahara quickly followed him into the arena. He looked a bit too cheerful. Narrowing his eyes, Ulquiorra gazed at the man.

"Whoa, no need to be suspicious. I just have a feeling that we need to see your powers should you have to use them." His green eyes stared hard into the brown.

"I don't think it wise for me to betray her trust so soon." Urahara's tone shifted, darkened into someone who really did have the wisdom of a captain.

"Look, I know this is not a life or death situation, but it will become that way. I don't want Ichigo worried about Orihime during this fight." Ulquiorra scoffed, but did not expound on his derision. "I know that you want to show that you won't have to break her trust, but for her _life_ wouldn't you want to know if you are able to fight at the capacity of a Vasto Lorde?" The man had a point. He hadn't attempted bearing arms against anyone in almost two month's time. To think this woman's made me sedentary, he thought wryly. Begrudgingly, Ulquiorra nodded.

"I cannot say for sure that my powers are at that level or not. It was a lifetime ago, even though it was only two months." The shopkeeper gave affirmation to the statement, and chose his words carefully.

"I'd…like to see how you fair against Ururu. Don't be afraid of harming her, she'll be able to handle herself. I just need to gauge your power. That's why we're down here. I don't have to worry about us being found out by the others in this compression area." The girl stepped up beside Urahara and said meekly.

"Mr. Ulquiorra can go all out on me; I'll be able to handle it."

"However, the restriction is no swords. Ururu is strongest at hand-to-hand combat." Ulquiorra allowed the terms, shrugging out of his coat. The shopkeeper laughed out loud, and once more green eyes glowered at him.

"There's no need for that. Just swallow one of those capsules in the gikongan and you'll be in your soul…well, I'm not exactly sure what to call you. You're not a hollow, and neither are you a soul reaper." He saw then a man that was capable of creating such outlandish things as the gigai he wore now and the Hogyoku. Ulquiorra saw the shopkeeper for what he truly was in that instance, a scientist thirsty for information, feedback…data.

Without waiting for him to be prompted, Ulquiorra swallowed one of the pills and had the strangest sensation overwhelm him. His soul—his essence—felt as though a powerful wind had knocked it forward, separating it from the skin he had come to call his. That part of him staggered backwards, blinking, but remaining very much like him by appearing stoic and not speaking. Shock abounded as he was experiencing sensory overload. Now the veil had lifted, he saw not only plateaus, but the holes that riddled each one from previous fights held down here. He saw where rocks had broken and fallen about each platform due to certain attacks causing them to buckle. He saw the cracked ground for every push off. He felt the warmth that the light generated here possessed. He felt so very alive; unleashed.

He noticed with some delay as he marveled at the feeling of _feeling_ again that Urahara was tending to the girl. Turning, he finally felt them. They caught the soft current of wind caused by his movement. He focused on them, forcing them to fully open. The sharp _fut_ as they snapped open was a welcome noise indeed. He looked down at his hands, seeing his stark white body. His eyes widened, alarmed. The fur that Murcielago had provided had been bleached white.

He could sense Urahara's gaze on him, and he caught it, seeing how wide the eyes had become. His stare flicked to the girl who had been knocked down by his spiritual pressure. Her eyes were tightly closed in the effort of holding herself up, and she was leaning heavily on the shopkeeper. Urahara drew his attention once again by speaking.

"Interesting," he remarked, dark eyes intent on him.

"What is?" His voice had transformed, too, somehow becoming much more velvety than it had been inside the gigai. Urahara coughed before explaining.

"You spiritual pressure is off the charts…so to speak."

"Oh?" Purposely being obtuse to this fact, he flexed his fingers, summoning the energy that formed Lanza del Relámpago. It felt lighter than it had, and he proved this by the vellicative motion his wrist made as he released it to his right. When it struck a plateau roughly a mile away, it exploded the rock formation. The pressure broke through the ground, quickly making the area they were located a compromising position. Swift thinking, Urahara leapt into the air with the girl tight in his grasp. Ulquiorra barely pushed against the earth to become aloft.

He observed the magnitude his every movement had on this pseudo-world the shopkeeper had erected beneath his house, and he was surprised to see that it was still standing under the influence of his reiatsu levels.

"Well, at least your gikongan knew to get out of the way." Urahara's nonchalant voice interrupted his musings momentarily.

"I suppose it is fortunate, for all of our sakes." The raw power he felt was intoxicating, and the statement was half-hearted because of this. Think of _her_, he reprimanded himself. Gray eyes, almost like stardust and red hair that seemed to be a fire. She tethered him once more to what he had to do, and the promises he had made.

"Urahara, I assume you've all the data you need," he uttered resolutely, not looking at the man in question.

"Perhaps not all of the data, but you will be able to fight." The tone the man had in his voice was wistful, as if he planned to experiment on him further once Aizen was finished. It was not relevant for now, so Ulquiorra put it from his mind to bring himself to the predicament of returning to her. He searched the ruined earth for his body, which was standing just out of harm's way. He smirked, deciding he condoned the oddity. He dove down to it, embracing the body, reconnecting himself with the second skin.

The veil melded to him, making his wings fill nonexistent once more, hiding his spiritual pressure once again. His breath caught as he regained the necessity to inhale, and he felt the pill dissolving on his tongue. He looked to the sky, seeing both the girl and her guardian descending.

"Don't worry about the soul candy," Urahara said casually. "It regenerates into the dispenser once you've reclaimed your gigai." Ulquiorra nodded, blinking repeatedly for his sight to revert back to normal as he retrieved his coat from the rubble. Urahara then led him and the girl back into the shop, discussing what should be done if he was called upon to engage.

* * *

He heard the bell ring, and the chattering students filed enthusiastically out of the school today. The area around the high school was congested with girls who had yet to give their chocolates to the boys they fancied and the boys waiting about to receive said chocolates. However, red hair whipped into sight, and he watched like a hawk as she pushed her way through the crowd, in her hand the same token of affection.

He smiled ruefully when she came to a halt in front of him, bowing as she proffered the chocolate. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, ignoring the rest of the assembly, including her friends. Ulquiorra grasped the parcel with his right hand as he cupped the nape of her neck in his left. Her head lifted infinitesimally, and he leaned into her, pressing his lips hard against hers. But the moment couldn't last, and she felt it, too.

Breaking the kiss, he pulled her into him as if he would be the one to shield her as the sky ripped apart. The brat and the rest of the group filed in next to them, watching the same scene as Aizen and his army of Espada poured into the world of the living.

* * *

**_TBC..._**


End file.
